


The Fourteenth

by rosamynal



Series: Cacoethes Scribendi [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, spoilers?, theory-crafting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosamynal/pseuds/rosamynal
Summary: Back when the world was whole and life was perfect, there was an empty seat in the Convocation of Fourteen.





	1. The Convocation

“Very well. With that matter settled…”

Black robes rustled as the others sprang to action at the calmly spoken words, like students dismissed from class by their professor. He, however, languidly stretched in his seat, arching back over it to pop his spine, before slipping a hand under his hood to scratch his head. Elidibus’ voice sliced through the individual conversations that had sprung up.

“There is simply one more topic to discuss before we are done for the day.”

Groans echoed throughout the vaulted chamber—his own included. 

“I have a lecture in the morning!” said Lahabrea, slamming a fist on the back of his seat.

“And I have a child waiting for me,” Deudalaphon added.

“I had _plans_,” Igeyorhm muttered.

He smirked as he caught the glance exchanged between her and Lahabrea.

“I assure all of you it won’t take long,” Elidibus said, motioning to the chairs they had just abandoned.

The others reluctantly resumed their seats, creating a circle of observers. He straightened up in his own seat as the white-robed man moved to the center, officially taking the floor.

“As we all know, the fourteenth seat has sat empty for a little over a month now, following our dear colleague’s death.”

Twelve sets of eyes followed Elidibus’ hand to the vacant seat among them. The memory of the accident was still fresh in their minds—along with the man’s sacrifice. He made a mental note to meet with Elidibus to review the finalized plans for the memorial garden he had designed. 

_ Perhaps include Mitron, _ he mused. _ They were friends, after all. _

“Is this even the moment to discuss filling it?” said man questioned. “This isn’t something to be rushed. I suggest that we move it to tomorrow’s agenda.”

Mitron’s words were met with sounds of approval. Lahabrea cleared his throat, ignoring whatever Igeyorhm hissed at him.

“If I may advocate the opposing argument—”

“No you may not,” Nabriales interrupted. “Everyone wants to go _home_.”

Lahabrea continued, despite the murmurs of agreement.

“Why fill the vacancy? What _is_ the purpose of a fourteenth member? What is wrong with thirteen? As we are now, any vote that falls to a tie may be broken by Elidibus, seeing as he typically abstains. I propose we leave the seat vacant in memory of our fallen colleague.”

He rolled his eyes at the suggestion and finally spoke up.

“Counterargument: What good is an empty seat?” he asked, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Are we to set a nice plaque on it and display it in the lobby of the Capitol? Or perhaps use it to relax by putting our feet up when a discourse gets too _boring_? No. With all due respect, Lahabrea, seats are made to be filled.”

“Ah, so Emet-Selch is still with us,” Elidibus observed. “I must agree: seats _are_ made to be filled. However, Mitron, I’m afraid we must discuss this today. The candidate is scheduled to arrive tomorrow.”

“What?”

“_What_ candidate?!”

“Why didn’t you bring this up earlier?”

Questions pelted the white-robed man until he held his hands up for silence. Rather than join in with the others, he simply watched the scene with raised eyebrows and a vaguely amused twist of his lips.

“My apologies, esteemed colleagues, for seeking out this candidate without your approval. I merely thought it would be easier to screen any and all before presenting them to you.”

“Multiple candidates have been considered?!” Mitron pressed, voice slowly rising in volume. “You didn’t think to involve even _one_ of us in the process?”

“I understand your feelings, Mitron, but seeing how deeply you were mourning—”

“That is not a decision to be made alone!” the man practically roared.

“Yet the decision was made and the invitation apparently extended,” he interjected, taking the angered man’s attention away from Elidibus.

“Go back to sleep, Emet-Selch,” Mitron hissed.

He somehow managed to keep from rolling his eyes as he responded.

“I would very much love to, but I can’t if you keep yelling.” He turned his gaze to the other members of the Convocation. “As for the rest of you: stop interrupting the man so we can all call it a day and go home. Or would everyone rather send out for their dinners and stay here debating something that’s already been done?”

“Believe it or not, I would also like to go home,” Elidibus added in a calm voice. 

The others reluctantly fell silent and focused their attention on the man in the center.

“As I said, the candidate is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. She will spend a week in Amaurot wherein she will complete a trial designed by myself and her sponsor, the outcome of which determines whether or not she takes the vacant seat.”

“If you’re the only one who knew of her coming, then who is her sponsor?” Mitron demanded.

“That is precisely why this matter could not wait until tomorrow. We need to decide on a sponsor today.”

The chamber erupted once more with arguments and accusations. He slumped down in his seat following a stifled groan. His fingers curled around his red mask and dug into his temples in a feeble attempt to stave off the oncoming headache as their voices grew louder. 

“I’ll do it!”

Deafening silence fell over them. He felt the weight of their gazes land on him while he continued rubbing his temples. A glance confirmed that, indeed, everyone was focused on him. Mitron’s face contorted in rage beneath his own red mask.

“Y-you?!” the man spluttered. “A child who only recently took his seat? You don’t have the experience, much less the _knowledge_, required!”

It wasn’t the first time that week that the man had made reference to his relatively recent appointment to the Convocation and his youth. The memory of the previous jab was fresh enough to make him bristle at the reminder.

“I had enough to be appointed,” he retorted, finally rising to his feet. “And, unless I’m mistaken, there’s no law stating you need to have served a certain amount of time in office before being allowed to sponsor someone.”

“How do you know you’re the best one to sponsor the candidate?” asked Deudalaphon. Her tone of voice implied a raised eyebrow; her crossed arms confirmed it. Something in the way she held her head told him that she perhaps agreed with Mitron.

“How do you know I’m not? The only one here who knows anything about the candidate is Elidibus. If everyone is against my being the sponsor and no one else is willing to volunteer, then let him pick someone so we can. Just. _Leave_.”

The gaze of the Convocation shifted to Elidibus, still in the center of the room. A rare smile graced the man’s face, framed by his mask. 

“I think you’ll do, Emet-Selch. Meet me in my office so I may give you the information you’ll need for the candidate’s arrival. We are adjourned for the day.”

“No, I object!”

“Give it a rest, Mitron,” Halmarut called from across the circle.

The man disregarded the other’s plea and continued.

“I propose a condition be placed on this sponsorship!”

“Oh?” he called, stifling a chuckle. “Is this your attempt at being entertaining?”

“Ignore him, Emet-Selch,” Lahabrea advised. “He’s obviously trying to provoke you.”

“But I want to hear this,” he confessed with a smirk. “Go on. Tell us your proposal.”

“The failure of a candidate suddenly thrust upon the Convocation reflects poorly on both the member who chose them and whoever agrees to sponsor them. Should she fail, then I propose both you and Elidibus step down.”

The white-robed man froze at the challenge. He glanced sideways at Elidibus, feeling his smirk widen into a grin—despite the other man’s subtle shake of his head.

“I accept.”

The chamber burst into more shouting. Above them all, he could plainly hear Igeyorhm’s voice.

“Don’t be so impulsive, Emet-Selch! If she fails then we will have _three_ seats to fill!”

He chuckled. The others stopped, allowing the softer sound to fill the void.

“But Igeyorhm,” he finally said, turning to her with a confident smile, “what you just said implies you have little faith in our dear Elidibus’ decisions. I am sure the candidate is qualified, leaving you with little reason to worry. Moreover, I’m positive that he and I can devise a trial that will both challenge the candidate and prove her worthy of the vacant seat.”

He faced Elidibus and smirked.

“Is that not so?”

After a moment, the man seemed to relax and nodded in agreement. 

“In fact, why not make it more interesting?” he resumed, walking up to Mitron to better sneer directly in the man’s face. “Should she pass the trial and earn her place as we have all done, then you, Mitron, will personally place her new mask on her face the day of her ceremony—before all Amaurot. Deal?” 

He offered his hand. The man took it with a firm shake.

“Deal,” he agreed before lowering his voice to a whisper. “I’ll make you eat your words, _ Hades_.”

“Is that so? Then do remember that I like a good red with my meals,” he quipped. “I’ll present you yours with a side of pie, _old man_.”

Hades turned on his heel and left the chamber as Elidibus officially adjourned them for the day.


	2. The Record Player

Soft jazz music lilted through the office from an old record player. He quietly hummed along with it as he looked over the plans his old friend had left for him to review. Said friend always teased him about playing the same disc day after day. Now and then, he threatened to throw the record from the window to see if it would hit a neighboring building. Of course, no attempt was ever made. On the days he failed to play the record, his friend would eventually start it with a lazy snap of his fingers.

The setting sun bathed the office in an orange glow. He reached over and flicked on the desk lamp, fingertips brushing against the white mask lying beside it. They decided long ago that any meetings would take place on-site rather than in the office, therefore he and his friend had agreed to remove their masks and black robes in the privacy of their shared office, having always preferred to be barefaced and in regular clothes when in each other’s company. 

His fingers laced into his short, dark purple hair as his eyebrows knit together. 

_What were you thinking?_ he wondered, lightly scribbling a note beside an “adjustment” his friend had made. _How far into your cups were you when you drafted up this mess of a design?_

He continued reviewing his friend’s plans: a note here, a scratch there, a simple doodle of a laughing face beside what looked like a messy caricature of a Convocation member. 

The sun had set by the time he had gone through about half the stack. He stood up and stretched, casting a concerned glance at the time. His hand hovered over his mask as he debated whether to head out before his friend returned. Just as he picked up the mask, the front door of the office unlocked and swung open.

A short, confused sound followed by a familiar snap rang throughout the office, stopping the record player. A moment later, his friend appeared in the doorway that led to the reception area, mask in hand and hood lowered. Hades’ dark eyebrows shot up his forehead as his yellow eyes landed on him.

“Daeus? What are you still doing here?” he asked while taking off his robe to reveal the black dress shirt and slacks he had chosen to wear that day.

“Working?” Hythlodaeus replied, motioning to the papers on his desk with his free hand.

“I thought you had plans.”

“I did.” He flashed his friend a sad smile. “Things didn’t turn out the way I had hoped.”

An apologetic frown bent Hades’ lips.

“I’m sorry; I know you were looking forward to...”

“Don’t be. They’re wonderful—really amazing—but, we disagreed on the _important_ details. We’ve decided to simply stay as friends.”

“Oh good,” said Hades, crossing the office to sit at his own desk. “You honestly need more friends.”

“Says the man who, I’m mostly sure, only has one,” he retorted while following the man and perched on the edge of Hades’ desk.

Hades placed his red mask on the desktop with a scoff. He ran his fingers through the medium-length strands of his dark brown hair as he replied with a wry smirk.

“Why do I need more when one friend like _you_ is nearly enough to make me swear off all social interaction?”

“So you say, yet we’ve been friends since we were children,” Hythlodaeus reminded him. “Maybe I’ll get a medal if I hold out for a few more centuries.”

The pair chuckled at the old joke before settling into the comfortable silence shared between friends. Hythlodaeus’ fingers tapped against the mask he held in his lap. His own yellow eyes swept over the other man, noting how his friend’s unfocused gaze was currently drilling a hole through the wood of his desk. 

The few people who had seen both men without their masks often mistook them for brothers due to their strong resemblance. Even their respective families often joked they were the result of a highly confidential aethereal experiment, considering they also shared the exact same birthday. 

They had embraced it as children, referring to the other as “brother” and using the resemblance to trick the adults into giving them extra sweets. The pair had even developed that connection typically reserved for siblings which allowed one insight into the other’s mind. 

It was this connection that told Hythlodaeus something had happened. He considered the best way to question Hades. After a moment, he decided to take the innocent route.

“Did something happen to keep you so late at the Capitol?” he asked. “Don’t tell me someone let Lahabrea take the floor again.”

A reflexive smirk tugged on one side of Hades’ mouth. He shook his head.

“Thankfully no. We’d probably still be there if that were the case.”

“Then why were you there so long?” he gently pressed.

Hades plucked his mask from where it lay on his desk and held it in front of his face.

“Convocation matters,” he said flatly before tossing the mask back down.

Hythlodaeus sighed in defeat. The day Hades had been appointed to take over the previous Emet-Selch’s seat, the pair had agreed upon that gesture and phrase to indicate anything confidential. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Hades silently shook his head.

“Go home, Daeus. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He stood, following a quick nod, and walked over to the door leading to the reception area. His eyes landed on the closed door across from him which led to his friend’s living area. Hythlodaeus realized he hadn’t heard Hades follow him away from the desk. 

Upon turning around, he found the man watching him—still sitting behind the desk, but now with his head propped by one hand.

“Aren’t you done for the night?”

“There’s one or two things I need to take care of, first.”

Unwilling to accept that answer, Hythlodaeus reentered the office. He stopped beside his desk, since it was closer to the door, and dropped his mask on it. Hades watched the actions with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not going home,” Hythlodaeus said, answering the unspoken question. “Not when you need me.”

“Alright. Fine. You’re fired, Hythlodaeus. Go home. Don’t come back tomorrow.”

“No, I’m not fired. Something happened, Hades, I can tell,” he insisted. “What was it?”

Hades took a deep breath and slowly released it. He stood to check that the front door was locked before returning to Hythlodaeus. The man sat on top of his desk with his arms crossed.

“Nothing I am about to say leaves this room. Understand?”

Once Hythlodaeus had nodded, his friend explained what had occurred at the meeting of the Convocation of Fourteen. He listened raptly, but his mouth was hanging open by the time Hades finished. 

When no response was forthcoming, Hades hopped off his desk and bent over to peer into his sitting friend’s face.

“Do say something, Daeus.”

Two pairs of golden eyes locked together. Hythlodaeus grabbed his friend by the shoulders and gave him a firm shake.

“What possessed you to _agree_?!” 

“I don’t know!” 

Hades’ hands shot up to tug at his hair. He slipped out of the other man’s grip to lean on the desk. He slammed his fist down on the surface, rattling everything on it.

“I want to prove him _wrong_,” he spat. “Him and anyone else who thinks we’re unworthy just because of something as ridiculous as age! Why should that even matter when everyone is nearly immortal?!”

Hythlodaeus found himself unable to answer the question. He leaned against the edge of the desk while he sensed Hades turn his emotions inwards. He frowned as the other man tugged at his hair again. An idea occurred to him, lifting his eyebrows and brightening his face. 

“Hades?” he called softly, getting his friend’s attention. “Do you remember how the other children used to laugh at me because I can’t create things? How the adults always looked at me with pity?”

His friend’s hands fell to the desk; his head slowly lifted to nod in response. Hythlodaeus smiled and curled a finger around his chin in thought.

“Do you remember what you always told me?”

Hades lowered his gaze to the desk. After a few seconds, he made a sound somewhere between a snort and a scoff. He straightened up with a smirk.

“They only see your limits, not your potential.”

Hythlodaeus beamed.

“The same applies here, doesn’t it? This is a trial not only for the candidate, but for you as well. Prove yourself to Mitron and the others. Show that you truly _are_ worthy of your seat.”

The smirk on the other man’s face wavered before fully collapsing. He crossed his arms to glare out the window.

“I thought I had. When does it ever end?”

“In my experience?” he asked, his own smile fading. “Never. But you don’t wear my mask; you don’t have my incapacity. They will come to respect you in time—I’m sure of it. You’ve only been there for a few years. That’s practically nothing compared to some of them.”

He caught the slight slump of Hades’ shoulders. He hid a smile at the memory of his friend’s mother telling him not to slouch.

“Take it one trial at a time,” he continued, patting Hades on the back. “Amaurot wasn’t built in a day; remember that. And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here to help however I can and I doubt Elidibus wants to see this fail, seeing as how his own position is on the line.”

The usual mischievous light returned to Hades’ eyes at the reminder. He glanced sideways at his friend as one corner of his mouth drew up into his typical smirk.

“Very true! Between my talents and Elidibus’ sense of preservation, how can I fail?”

The man capped off the rhetorical question with a dramatic toss of his head. Hythlodaeus shook his own head to hide his smile.

_There’s the Hades I know. _

His friend thanked him as he reached for his mask. It was quickly swiped away before Hythlodaeus could touch it.

“You’re leaving?” Hades asked. “Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’ll make your favorite.”

He considered the offer, but shook his head.

“Whenever we have dinner together, we end up drinking until early morning. I don’t think showing up to work late and hungover tomorrow will make the best impression.” 

Hades handed his mask back to him. 

“We’ll save it for the end of the week, then,” he suggested. “To celebrate.”

Hythlodaeus smiled as he donned his mask. He slipped into his robe on the way to the office door, stopping only to ensure everything was secured and his features hidden. He paused with a few fingers resting on the door handle and turned to his friend with a suggestion.

“Perhaps we can invite the candidate. It would be nice if you made a new friend.”

His old friend gave an exaggerated eyeroll, drawing a soft chuckle out of Hythlodaeus. The two exchanged their farewells and he stepped outside.

As per usual, Hades locked the door behind Hythlodaeus. The man walked down the short hallway and pressed the button to call the lift, humming the song he had been listening to on the record player while he waited. Just as the lift arrived with a soft ding, he faintly heard the music resume in their office.


	3. The Call

Hades sighed deeply into his second cup of coffee.

Despite being reassured by Hythlodaeus’ words the night before, he now watched the grey drizzle that fell on Amaurot and which seemed to mirror his mood. 

_It could be worse,_ he could already hear Hythlodaeus say. _At least it isn’t raining eggs like that one time. Remember how bad it smelled once the sun came up? It took forever to clean all the districts._

A reluctant smile appeared on his face at the memory. He turned away from the window to gaze at the rest of his apartment, setting the cup down on a glass tabletop. Hades had already bathed and dressed for the day, but was eyeing the white sofa against the far wall of his sitting room.

When he had first been appointed to the Convocation, they offered him a home on the outskirts of Amaurot. He politely declined and instead requested permission to add a residence to his office. The permission was granted along with a remark, “That floor is yours to do with as you please. You certainly aren’t the first Emet-Selch to make it into a home—and you probably won’t be the last.”

While they had been very clear that he could not alter the outer walls or the height of the ceiling (for fear of compromising the building’s integrity), he had free rein to change everything else within the space. 

And change it he certainly had, divvying up the space with walls and filling it with the best furniture and decorations that he could create until it felt like home. He had even carved out a guest room which was typically used by Hythlodaeus when he worked late and didn’t have the energy to walk home. Now, however, Hades had prepared it for the candidate to stay in.

The man caved in to his desires and settled onto the cloudlike sofa. Having barely slept—and fitfully at that—he considered taking a quick nap before leaving to meet the candidate at the train station.

Hades closed his eyes and relaxed. With a deep sigh, he felt the tension ease off his shoulders as he sunk into the sofa with a contented smile.

A quick trio of beeps sounded throughout his apartment. He bolted upright at the sharp, sudden sounds, heart pounding in his chest. Hades glared at the device mounted on the far wall. A small light flashed in time with the repeating beeps. Knowing only one person would call him at such an early bell, he stomped over to it, pressed a button, and flatly addressed them as he returned to the sofa.

“Don’t worry; I’m awake.”

A relieved sigh reverberated through the room, thanks to the speakers.

“Good. I almost thought you’d sleep in,” Elidibus confessed.

“I would have to have slept in the first place,” Hades snapped. “Be thankful we don’t convene today or I _would_ use that empty seat for a footstool during my nap.”

“And Mitron would find a way to utterly destroy you, consequences be damned. I don’t recall ever seeing him so incensed,” the voice observed. “Tell me, is your talent for getting under people’s skin an innate gift or a honed skill?”

He chuckled at the question before responding and draped himself over the sofa.

“A bit of both, actually. Although if I’m not mistaken, you were the one who set him off with your decision to look for a candidate on your own. Not your best plan, if we’re being honest.”

“Please, Emet-Selch. I already received an earful from Mitron after you left. Let’s focus on the candidate. Have you put any thought towards her trial?”

Hades shook his head despite Elidibus being unable to see it.

“I thought it better to meet her first and then design the trial based on her strengths and weaknesses.”

“A sensible choice. Remember that she’ll arrive—”

“On the first train in from the coast,” Hades interrupted. “Yes, yes, I remember.”

“I told her to look for you since you can’t see her soul.”

“I’ve already told you it’s not that I can’t see souls, I merely choose not to expend the energy required to do it.”

“And I believe _I_ have told _you_ on _multiple_ occasions that it would not require so much energy if you would simply drop a fraction of your pretenses as well as your guard. To see souls easily requires you first to be willing to bare some of your own.”

A pause. Hades could practically see the man take a deep breath and count to ten. He bit his tongue as he waited.

“Now, if I may continue? Use the time today to show—”

“Show her around Amaurot and get to know her. Tomorrow I am to take her to the Capitol when we convene,” he said flatly. “Did you call merely to scold me and to remind me of what you said yesterday or did you have something more to add?”

“I suppose I could warn you; tomorrow starts Lahabrea’s year of leading the Convocation.”

Hades didn’t bother to stifle his groan. 

“It’s going to be a long year,” he griped before a chuckle slipped out of him. “Why not make that the candidate’s trial, hm? If she manages to sit through a week of Lahabrea’s discourses and still have a positive view of him, we’ll grant her the seat.”

“Behave, Emet-Selch.”

Despite the tone, Hades caught the restrained smile in the man’s voice.

“I am; you’re the one about to laugh,” he smirked. 

The sound of Elidibus clearing his throat came through the speakers. Hades’ smirk twisted into a smile.

“I believe you should leave now so as to arrive at the train station on time,” Elidibus said. “I look forward to hearing about it tomorrow—along with a draft for a trial.”

“I’ll have it in your office first thing.”

A low beep resounded through the room, indicating the call had ended. 

Hades sighed. Try as he might to deny it, Elidibus’ reproach had found its mark, having been inadvertently aided by Hythlodaeus’ comment the night before. 

His gaze drifted to the abandoned coffee cup by the window. He sneered at the thought that threatened to surface and snapped his fingers. The cup vanished, dispersing into aether.


	4. The Candidate

By the time Hades reached the train station, the morning drizzle had intensified into rain. Some Amaurotines scurried from shelter to shelter while others created small aethereal fields over their heads to keep themselves dry. Hades fell into the latter category. 

The station attendants greeted him with respectful nods when he paused just to one side of the doors. He returned the silent gesture as he brushed a hand along the sleeves and hem of his black robe, wicking away the moisture from the ends. Satisfied that they were dry, he continued into the station’s hub.

The open, three-story central hall buzzed with movement and conversations, drowning out the sound of the rain hitting the ornate glass ceiling. Hades joined the flow of people moving throughout the station, following the signs that led to the coastal line.

He found a few people waiting upon his arrival to the platform. They immediately recognized him and fell into hushed whispers; snippets of which drifted over as he asked an attendant about the train.

_“…-Selch? What’s …”_

_“…-haps … an inspection?”_

The woman assured him the train had yet to arrive, having been delayed at the previous station. Hades thanked her and took a seat at one of the benches lining the platform.

_“Is… waiting..”_

_“Do you think…”_

“What?!”

The man was immediately hushed by the others, who cast a furtive glance at Hades. He smiled and nodded at them as if he hadn’t heard a thing. One of them nervously returned the gesture while the rest drew their hoods further over their faces.

Hades’ polite smile twisted into a smirk as he turned away and leaned back in the bench. When his eyes landed on the tracks, he idly recalled a theory he had read concerning an aether-based system of transportation. It had been shot down due to being deemed too risky and the fact that it would exclude those with limited aethereal capabilities. 

_It would certainly be useful,_ he mused, letting his eyes drift shut. _Likely more reliable and quicker than the transport system we have in place now. Doubt anything can be done to make it more accessible, but we could maintain the rail system for them. As for risk, that can always be lowered; the question is, how? The main argument against it seemed to be the high probability that the user’s aethereal components would be irretrievable should they lose concentration even for a moment, and they would then be lost—essentially dead. The question is, therefore, could a safeguard be implemented against that possibility?_

_How did it work again? Concentration is required to ensure one arrives at their intended destination and not on another continent. Visualize it in your mind and call on the appropriate aether; but what precisely does that mean? Maintain the location in mind or you end up elsewhere, if at all. What if there were a guide of some sort? Like a sign that points the way to certain locales? Or a lighthouse…_

The sound of the arriving train drew him out of his thoughts. His eyebrows drew together under his mask as he watched the train pull up.

“Or a sort of track system, but made of aether,” he murmured under his breath. “But how to go about installing it and _where_?”

There were few passengers on the train. A couple with their child were the first to exit, heading straight for the small group that had been whispering about him. A soft smile tugged at one corner of his lips. 

It was rare to see a child. Being a race that did not die of old age, procreation was highly regulated due to fear of overpopulation. Applications were filed by those who wanted children. Every few centuries—or when deemed necessary—a lottery was held to pick the lucky few who would have children. The list was long, Hades had seen it unfurled once in Deudalaphon’s office, and the likelihood of any one given couple being picked was low, but the wishful couples held out hope that they would be chosen.

“Excuse me, are you Emet-Selch?” 

The sound of his title pulled his attention and thoughts away from the reunited group as they greeted each other. He looked forward to find a figure bearing the same white mask and black robes as everyone else. For a brief moment, he considered spending the energy to see their soul, but decided to respond verbally instead.

“I am,” he said, remembering he was waiting for someone and not simply people watching. “You must be the candidate Elidibus told me about.”

Her mouth stretched into a warm smile.

“I am. My name is Eudora.”

Hades returned the gesture as he stood and politely bowed to the woman.

“Welcome to Amaurot, Eudora. I hope you had a pleasant trip from the coast.”

“I did, although I feel I should apologize; it seems I’ve brought the coastal rain with me.”

His mouth curled into a smirk.

“Normally people bring seashells,” he quipped before realizing he was addressing a stranger. “Forgive me, I—”

A snicker stopped him cold. Eudora lowered her hand from her mouth to reveal a smile.

“Don’t apologize. Elidibus warned me that you were likely to make some sort of snide comment within a bell of meeting me.”

_Old man knows me too well,_ Hades thought, barely suppressing a grimace. 

“I suppose we’re even now, having both apologized for something out of our control.”

Her smile widened as she nodded in agreement. Hades stepped to one side and motioned to the platform’s exit.

“Shall we?”

Eudora walked beside Hades into the hallway leading back to the central hub. The pair idly chatted until they reached the main doors. He glanced up at the rain falling from the dark grey clouds. From the corner of his eye, he caught the candidate watching him expectantly—despite being unable to see her eyes themselves due to the typical mesh covering the eyeholes of her mask. 

“The original plan had been to give you a tour of Amaurot,” he explained, “but I doubt you’d want to do that in the rain.”

“Why not?” came the counter. “I like walking in the rain; it’s refreshing. Besides, it feels like a lifetime since I’ve been in Amaurot.”

He cocked his head to one side at the statement.

“Oh? Have you visited before?”

“I used to live here when I was a child,” she explained. “We moved to the coast when my mother chose to focus on ocean-based concepts.”

Hades silently mouthed his understanding, casting another look up at the clouds. 

“If the rain doesn’t bother you, then we’ll carry on as planned.”

He stepped out into the rain and summoned the aethereal field above him in one fluid motion. Eudora followed, spreading her arms out to her sides and smiling up at the rain. Hades raised an eyebrow as he watched her.

“Would you like some cover?” he asked, stopping to point at the field over his head.

Her smile stretched into a grin before she shook her head.

“No, thank you,” she replied and tugged at her sleeve. “This robe was a concept of mine. I created it with properties that repel water, ensuring the wearer remains dry. See?”

Said sleeve was thrust towards him. He gently took the fabric between his thumb and forefinger to find it cool, yet completely dry. His gaze drifted up to eye the lower half of her face.

“What about the exposed skin?”

“That can be dried with a bit of fire- and wind-aspected aether,” came the reply. The tone suggested it should have been obvious.

Eudora flicked her hand over and offered it to him. His fingers shifted from sleeve to skin and discovered it too was now dry. He looked to her face and other hand to find them still wet from the rain. For once, the man was glad to be wearing his mask since it hid his raised eyebrows and widened eyes.

_To have such fine control over aethereal manipulation is impressive. I think I’m beginning to see why Elidibus chose her as a candidate._

“You should register this concept,” he suggested. “I have a friend who would appreciate the robes on days like these—even if he can’t do the skin drying trick.”

“Is he… limited?” she asked hesitantly.

“Only in that he can’t create,” Hades answered with a smirk. “He’s quite capable otherwise. He’s my assistant, in fact; you’ll meet him when we go to my office.”

“Oh! I knew someone like that, once. I felt sorry for him when we first met, but what he lacked in actual creative potential he more than made up for with his imagination and problem-solving. If myself or our other friend ever had trouble with something we wanted to create, he typically had the solution.”

_Sounds like Daeus,_ the man mused while they resumed walking down the street. _I’ve yet to give him something he can’t fix._

“Since you haven’t been here in some time, is there anything you’d like to see first?”

“Well, there is one thing I had in mind… Other than that, it’s all up to you.”

He nodded when she named the location—a small garden in one of the central districts he remembered playing in as a child—and started plotting a path through the city in his mind as they walked.


	5. The Reunion

Hades paused at the office door and knocked three times. Eudora tilted her head in a silent question. He simply put a finger to his lips and an ear to the door. Under the eternally playing jazz music, he faintly heard the frantic rustling of fabric followed by two knocks. The man flashed a smirk down at the candidate.

“This is my office,” he explained, unlocking the door and motioned for her to enter.

She stared at the open doorway before glancing up at him.

“You knock before entering your own office?”

“Just get inside, will you?” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll explain in there.”

She bared her teeth in a grin as he ushered her into the reception area. During the course of their walk, Hades had soon learned the woman had a sharp tongue of her own. Elidibus’ mysterious “you’ll do” comment quickly made sense after an especially sharp barb over his choice of wines.

Hythlodaeus popped his head out of the office. Hades motioned for him to join them while Eudora looked out the window of the reception area.

“The reason for the knock is because my assistant and I came to an agreement,” Hades explained, making her look back at them. “Since he spends more time here than in his own home, we agreed not to wear our masks or robes in the office.”

“Especially since we rarely have visitors; although I should have expected he would bring you here today,” Hythlodaeus added. He approached her with an outstretched hand. “You must be the candidate. My name is Hythlodaeus, but you can call me ‘Daeus’.”

The woman’s jaw went slack with a gasp and she took a step back, hands drawn up to her chest. Hades could feel her gaze jump between the two men. After a moment, she tilted her head and leaned forward to peer closer at his friend.

“Daeus?” she echoed. “Emet-Selch said his assistant couldn’t create, but could it really be you?”

Hythlodaeus glanced back at Hades, who recognized the confused set of his friend’s lips. When he shrugged at the unspoken question, Hythlodaeus addressed the woman.

“I’m sorry, but have we met before?”

“It has to be; there can’t be two men with the same name and limited aethereal capacity living in Amaurot,” she half-murmured. “Don’t you remember me? I’ll grant that it’s been a few centuries, but you did always comment on my soul’s distinctive color.”

Hades easily sensed his friend’s uncertainty as he stammered out a request for the woman to give him a moment. Hythlodaeus took a deep breath before focusing on Hades over his shoulder. The soft feeling of his friend’s gaze brushed against him.

A faint prickling on the back of his neck served as his only physical warning. The simple, ephemeral touch was enough to begin teasing _something_ out of Hades. Hythlodaeus had once explained it was the sensation of his soul being bared. 

Hades hated it. 

He acknowledged that his friend needed to orient himself, but he didn’t have to like it. The man lightly pushed Hythlodaeus’ shoulder with the tips of his fingers.

“Don’t keep looking at _me_; you already know who I am,” he scolded while pointing at Eudora.

“R-right.”

His friend directed his attention back to the woman. The feeling vanished the moment Hythlodaeus’ gaze left him and whatever had been drawn out darted back into Hades. Despite not seeing his own soul, he looked over himself to ensure everything was as it should be. 

“Dori?”

Hades’ head snapped up at the nickname and the nearly forgotten memories it brought forth: another child playing with them; the three of them fleeing from the adults when a prank went awry; she and Hythlodaeus brainstorming new and fantastical things for him to create.

Eudora was beaming at Hythlodaeus.

“I knew it! How have you been?” she asked, bridging the distance between them.

“Me?! How have _you_ been? Hades and I were so worried when you suddenly stopped coming out to play with us. It took us forever to find out you had moved.”

“I know; I’m sorry. I tried to tell at least one of you, but we had to catch the train. How is Hades doing? The two of you must still keep in touch considering how close you were.”

Hades cleared his throat and stepped forward to stand beside Hythlodaeus. Eudora gasped, putting her hands to her mouth while he crossed his arms.

“I’m sorry, Emet-Selch. I just didn’t expect to run into one of my old friends while I was here—much less to find one working for you.”

He smirked at the woman, ignoring the elbow Hythlodaeus jabbed into his ribs.

“Were you always this apologetic? The relaxed lifestyle of the smaller coastal cities has made you soft.”

“What? What do you…” 

For a second time, Eudora took a step back and studied the men. Hades straightened up and let his face fall into a neutral expression, easily matching Hythlodaeus’ posture. Her jaw dropped as one of her fingers swept between the two men.

“Your mouths and jaws,” she murmured. “Even your hands. I’d almost say the two of you were…”

His mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk when her gaze fell fully upon him.

“_Hades_?!”

“In the flesh,” he replied, dipping into a bow. “Pleasure to see you again, Dori.”

She stared at him, jaw agape, for a moment. Her lax mouth suddenly tensed into a snarl.

“You overgrown weed!” she spat. “When were you planning on telling me?!”

Hades raised his eyebrows and chuckled at the reaction—which only seemed to irritate her more. Hythlodaeus planted himself between the two, holding his hands up to her.

“N-now Dori. I’m sure Hades had a reason to stay silent. He _is_ a member of the Convocation and your sponsor, after all.” He peered back over his shoulder. “Right?”

He shrugged in response.

“Would you believe me if I said I hadn’t fully recalled her until you used her nickname?”

Eudora lunged forward. Hythlodaeus barely managed to catch her and pull her away from Hades.

“You forgot about me?! You, who used to crow about your incredible memory, _forgot_?!”

“He still brags about his memory, actually,” Hythlodaeus muttered.

“Don’t help me, Daeus,” Hades hissed before leaning forward until he was face to face with the restrained woman. “You said yourself it has been some time, dear Dori. I don’t know about you down at the coast, but I have been rather busy. I haven’t had the time to idly reminisce about people I once knew.”

Eudora’s mask did nothing to hide her glare. A realization struck Hades and he momentarily filed it away in his mind. For the present, he smiled at her as he straightened up, splaying his hands in front of him, palms up.

“Now that you’re here, however, we should catch up. Let’s have lunch; just the three of us. Daeus, why not go on ahead with her? Take her to your restaurant. I’ll meet you there.”

The woman reluctantly relaxed and glanced at Hythlodaeus, who let her go, but still kept himself between her and Hades.

“You own a restaurant?”

“I wouldn’t say that ‘own’ is the correct word. I helped establish it,” he explained. “It employs people like me and gives them a way to contribute. The food is, therefore, made by hand instead of created. Consequently it takes longer to prepare, but the time can be spent enjoying the company of whomever you’re with.”

“And it, honestly, tastes better,” Hades added. 

“I’ll finish this last draft and take her. Where will you be?” his old friend asked.

“I realized there’s something I need to do, first,” Hades said as he walked back to the front door. “It shouldn’t take very long—a quick meeting and a few words. Like I said: go on and I’ll meet you there.”

Hythlodaeus watched his old friend close the door behind him. He glanced at the woman to his left, who was still glaring at the spot she had last seen Hades. A light tap on her shoulder made her finally break eye contact with the wall.

“Something tells me you may have forgotten Hades can… keep you on your toes, so to speak,” he noted gently.

Eudora scoffed.

“That’s a rather diplomatic way to say he’s still a right pain. Maybe you should go for the vacant seat.”

The man coughed to hide his smile.

“Could you keep me company in the office? I’m almost done revising a final draft Hades left for me. It will only take a few minutes.”

She nodded and followed him into the office proper. Once she had taken the seat he offered her, Hythlodaeus sat down to finish his work.


	6. The Akadaemia

It had been quite a few decades since Hades had walked Akadaemia Anyder’s halls, but he still knew every turn, every corridor, and—more importantly—every shortcut considering how often he had nearly missed the start of an assessment due to a mistimed nap.

The man emerged from one of those shortcuts into the administrative wing which housed the professors’ offices. He continued down the twisting hallways until he found the one he was searching for. Hearing a pair of voices behind the closed door, he opened it and stepped inside. The conversation stopped. One of the two men sitting in the armchairs heaved a sigh.

“We do not barge into private offices, Emet-Selch,” Lahabrea reprimanded. “Try again.”

With a flick of the wrist, a burst of aether sent Hades sliding back out the office. The door slammed in his face, barely missing the tip of his nose. He ground his teeth together and knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” called Lahabrea. When he entered, the man made a sound of mock surprise. “Ah! Emet-Selch. What a surprise to see you here. How may I help you?”

“I’m actually here to speak with Elidibus,” Hades replied, nodding at the white-robed man sitting across from Lahabrea. “It concerns the candidate.”

“Has something happened?” Elidibus asked. 

“The candidate is safe, if that’s your question.”

“But something _has_ happened?” Lahabrea prodded.

Hades shot the man a glare for the interruption, but stopped when he caught the subtle shake of Elidibus’ head. He continued explaining to both men.

“Something has come up; a fact of which I was unaware. She and I were friends as children, therefore I feel I cannot be her sponsor. Should the others learn of our relationship, I am concerned that they would question my ability to create an appropriate trial.”

“Do you feel your prior relationship would impede said ability?” Lahabrea asked, leaning back in his armchair.

“I see no reason for it to; we have had no contact since she moved to the coast.”

“Then I don’t see why you would be called into question,” the man replied dismissively.

“I would still feel more comfortable if someone else were to take on the role of sponsor,” Hades insisted. “Why not you, Lahabrea? She could learn much from you in the ways of creation.”

“You flatter me, but I am busy enough juggling my duties for both the Convocation and the Akadaemia.”

Hades turned to Elidibus who shook his head before he could even inhale.

“Sponsoring _you_ was enough of a headache for this millennia. Besides, did you already forget your deal? I could see Mitron reading your abdication of sponsorship as being equivalent to the candidate’s failure. I’m sorry to say, but I think you must see this through to the end.”

He swore under his breath. 

“Now a question for you, Emet-Selch,” Lahabrea asked as the man turned to leave his office. “Did you truly come all this way to ask a single question?”

Hades hesitated, his hand hovering over the door handle. He stared at the geometric pattern of the door itself as he weighed asking the other question on his mind. Coming to a decision, he turned on his heel and faced the sitting men, focusing his attention on Elidibus.

“Why _exactly_ did you pick her as a candidate?”

The corner of Elidibus’ mouth twitched up into a smirk.

“And so the truth comes forth,” he noted softly, mouth falling back to its customary neutrality. “Permit me to be so rude as to answer with a question of my own: Have you honestly not noticed? I would think you more capable than that.”

He momentarily paused. Judging by the subtle turn of his face, Elidibus glanced from Hades to Lahabrea.

“Or perhaps you have on a more subliminal level, based on your suggestion. If you have yet to puzzle it out by the end of the week, I will explain myself then—but not a moment sooner.”

A notion tugged on the edge of Hades’ consciousness. It told him that he did know and Eldibus had just given him a hint. His eyes swept over Lahabrea, studying the man relaxing in his armchair with his hands steepled in front of his chest. A smirk played over the exposed half of the black-robed man’s face.

_He knows,_ Hades realized. _Elidibus must have confided in him. Well, if that’s the game these two want to play, then I’m more than willing to beat them at it._

Hades’ typical smirk found its way onto his face as he addressed the pair.

“Well! I should head back to my dear candidate then, seeing as how I won’t get an answer out of either of you. Lahabrea, I will see you tomorrow along with the others. Elidibus, I will meet you in your office beforehand to present the conceptual drafts for the trial.”

He left the office without further interruption.

“I’d ask if you’re nervous, but from the way you’re strangling that napkin I already have my answer.”

The soft-spoken observation brought Eudora back to reality. She glanced at Hythlodaeus sitting across the table from her before realizing she had been wringing the napkin between her hands. The woman released the tortured bit of cloth and rested her hands in her lap.

“It’s perfectly understandable if you are,” Hythlodaeus continued in the same gentle tone. “This is a big chance; anyone would be nervous.”

His comforting smile helped her realize that the man wasn’t so different from the boy she had once known. Eudora gave him a soft smile as someone stopped by their table.

The newcomer happily greeted Hythlodaeus, who stood and embraced them before introducing Eudora as an old friend. The stranger, an employee at the restaurant, exchanged a few words with the man before leaving.

“You’ve done well for yourself, Daeus,” she remarked as he returned to his seat. “I’m proud of you.”

A blush flooded his cheeks. For the briefest of moments, she saw his soul flare up as well—emerald green with flecks of pale gold.

“Th-thank you,” he said, sheepishly lowering his gaze to the table. “I only hope to serve as an example for what people like me can achieve.”

She grinned at his words.

“Seriously, why aren’t _you_ a member of the Convocation?”

He chortled as his blush finally faded.

“Despite your insistence, I’m ill-suited for it. I’d rather leave those headaches to Hades—and you, hopefully, when this week is over.”

They continued with their small talk. Hades arrived a few minutes later.

“Tell me you ordered for me,” he said, taking the seat between them. “I’m starving and I could use a strong drink.”

While Hythlodaeus explained that he had, Eudora noticed a change that worried her.

As a child, Hades started hiding his soul for a reason he had never explained to her or Hythlodaeus. When she had first met him in the station, she had recognized him by the red mask of his office due to being unable to see his soul.

Now, however, something was bothering him enough that Eudora could plainly see it—violet streaked with red—lashing out from behind the walls of its confinement. From the faint frown on Hythlodaeus’ face, he could at least sense it as well.

“What happened?” he asked while Hades waved down a worker and asked for wine.

“Nothing,” came the curt reply. “Everything’s fine. Everything _will be_ fine.”

He took a deep breath. The sight of his soul faded from Eudora’s view. When Hades spoke again, his voice had lost a bit of its edge.

“A bit of business before we begin speaking and catching up as old friends,” he said, focusing on her. Even hidden by his mask, his gaze felt intense. “I need to know that I have your full trust.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together at the strange request.

“Why?”

“_No_,” he spat in a low and even growl. “Yes or no. Either I do or I don’t.”

She eyed him for a moment. The man had grown still, waiting for her reply.

Slowly, she nodded.

“You do. You agreed to sponsor me despite not knowing or even recalling that we were friends. That counts for something in my eyes.”

Hades relaxed his body, but his jaw remained clenched. 

“Good,” he murmured as a bottle of wine was set on the table along with three glasses. 

He filled their glasses and raised his own, smirk plastered back onto his face despite the tension it still held. 

“Let’s ignore business for the rest of the day. To renewed friendships.”

Three glasses clinked together.


	7. The Bridge

True to Hades’ word, the trio made no mention of work of any kind. Instead, they spent the afternoon discussing what they had done during their centuries apart.

Hades and Hythlodaeus had worked in conjunction for the most part. The pair had attended Akadaemia Anyder. While the former had studied aethereal engineering and worked closely with the previous Emet-Selch, the latter had focused his efforts on more practical methods, pressing the professors to explain the exact manner in which specific things functioned more so than the theory. When Hades had taken his seat on the Convocation, he had asked Hythlodaeus to help him with his work, which had granted the other man the opportunity to launch an operation helping others with limited aethereal capacities find their place in society.

Eudora, for her part, had forgone traditional studies after a year or two. Instead, she had chosen to learn by observing her mother’s colleagues and lend a hand when needed. Once she felt confident enough in her abilities, she turned her attention to filling in gaps in the coastal ecosystem—a predator here, a plant there, an aquatic herbivore when the previous creation began to overtake the area. Upon hearing that a seat had opened up, her colleagues had insisted she apply. One, a typically silent scholar who had taken her under his wing, had been the most adamant. She had submitted the application to please him, thinking it would lead to nothing. Next thing she knew, Elidibus had reached out to her for a conversation and then an invitation.

Once their meal was over, they took to the streets of Amaurot. The trio traced the long-forgotten routes they used to take and visited the areas where they had once played, recalling old pranks and adventures.

They stopped at an out of the way bridge just as the sun was setting. Hythlodaeus smiled fondly at it as he walked under it. Eudora and Hades followed closely behind.

“This was where we…” he started hesitantly, glancing back at the other two.

“First revealed our faces to each other,” Hades finished softly. “It had only taken us, what, a decade? Two?”

“It was only three years before I moved away,” Eudora added, looking at the ironwork of the bridge above them.

Hades momentarily glanced at her before sitting on the walkway running the width of the bridge.

“What are you doing?” she asked as Hythlodaeus joined them.

“Well, it’s been a few centuries and we’re all grown up. I figure it’s time we see what’s changed.”

“What if someone sees us?” Hythlodaeus asked. 

“People rarely come all the way out here,” Hades said, patting the ground. “Besides, who’s going to look under a bridge?”

Eudora shrugged at Hythlodaeus and sat down, earning a grin from Hades. Hythlodaeus joined them with a defeated sigh. 

Before she could ask who would go first, Hades had already tossed back his hood and removed his mask. She caught herself staring at the man as he shook out his dark brown hair and ran his hand through it. 

A dark eyebrow cocked over the pair of pale yellow eyes that focused on her. His grin turned mischievous.

“What’s wrong, Dori? See something interesting?” he teased, but she had already recovered.

“I’m just surprised you grew into that nose of yours.”

Hades’ hand flew to his chest as if she had struck him.

“You _wound_ me, dear friend.”

“Well I’m certainly not removing my mask,” Hythlodaeus murmured. “Not after that.”

“Please, Daeus?” Eudora asked. “I promise not to say anything.”

“Is that supposed to make it _better_?” he countered dryly.

“What’s the worst she can say?” Hades added. “She already insulted the nose.”

“My nose is not as big.”

“Yes it is.”

“Ah, so you admit it’s a big nose?” Eudora asked, rounding on Hades.

“I mean comparatively!” he countered, snapping his fingers. 

Eudora tilted her head in confusion until she heard Hythlodaeus gasp. Looking back at him, she found he had pulled his hood down over his face with both hands.

“Come on, Daeus, let her see,” Hades drawled with a lazy smirk, brandishing the other man’s white mask. “There’s no reason to be self-conscious. For what it’s worth, _I_ think you’re rather handsome.”

Eudora clucked her tongue disapprovingly and held her hand out to him.

“Give it back, Hades. Don’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to.”

Hades rolled his eyes and relinquished the mask with an apology to Hythlodaeus and a muttered, “No fun,” to Eudora.

She carefully took one of Hythlodaeus’ hands and pressed the mask into his palm. He brought the mask to where he could see it and lightly rubbed his thumb against it as he hesitated. 

A quiet sigh soon followed as he set the mask on the ground in front of him and lowered his hood, revealing his short dark purple hair. The man slowly lifted his head until Eudora could clearly see his face; his pale yellow eyes immediately darted to the side in an attempt to prevent locking eyes with her.

Eudora smiled and slowly leaned closer to him. A blush covered his face and he quietly gasped, leaning away from her. She smiled, swaying left to right as she got a good look at him. The resemblance between the two had persisted into adulthood, but she thought they now looked more like brothers instead of twins. After a moment, she lifted a hand and gently poked the tip of his nose.

“I like it. Much better than what Hades has,” she said, ignoring the cry from the other man. “I might even have to agree with him: you are handsome—at least more so than he is.”

“Alright, little critic, what about you?” asked Hades. “Let’s see your face.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she yawned with an exaggerated stretch. “It’s getting late; why don’t we head back?”

Eudora shrieked with laughter as Hades lunged at her. His fingers grasped the edge of her mask while she caught his wrist, keeping him from yanking it off her face. His eyes narrowed and his mouth widened into a grin. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Eudora saw his free hand draw up, ready to snap. She snatched his last three fingers to prevent him from doing so, but lost her balance and fell backwards in the process, dragging him down with her. 

He released her in time to catch himself to keep from falling on top of her. His yellow eyes were widened and his mouth drawn low on his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

She nodded.

“Good!”

Hades snatched her mask and leapt to his feet with a victorious laugh. Eudora rolled into a sitting position, letting her hood fall to reveal her long, blonde hair. She huffed some of it out of her face while eyeing him.

The woman shifted so her feet were below her and lunged for the celebrating man, tackling him back to the ground. He kept laughing as she scrambled for the mask he held out of her reach with one hand. His free hand snapped from where she had it pinned between them; her mask vanished. Eudora hit Hades in the chest, drawing a final chuckle out of him.

“Give it back!”

“But Dori, how else would we have seen those lovely silver eyes of yours?”

Said eyes glanced to the side and her mouth curled into a smile.

“Alright, _Emet-Selch_.” Eudora flicked her hand and closed it into a tight fist. “You’ll get yours when I get mine. Which should be rather soon considering the scandal that would happen if a Convocation member were to be caught without his mask.”

Hades narrowed his eyes in thought before his eyebrows shot up his forehead. He lifted her up to get a better view of where he had left his mask—only to find it missing. The man slipped out from under her with scowl and helped her to her feet.

When he snapped his fingers, her white mask appeared in his outstretched hand. He tucked it behind his back as he held his other hand out for his red mask. Eudora opened her fist and it appeared. They exchanged masks, but neither put theirs back on.

“That wasn’t a bad move,” Hades admitted, studying her from head to toe. “Seems you learn some interesting things over on the coast.”

“Your snapping thing isn’t too bad either,” she replied. “Is it necessary or just a flourish?”

“The latter, of course,” he smirked.

Hythlodaeus cleared his throat. They looked over to find him watching them with his arms crossed. He shook his head.

“Children these days, I swear.”

“What are you talking about?!” Hades yelled.

“We’re all the same age!” Eudora added.

A voice called out as footsteps approached where they stood. Before either Eudora or Hythlodaeus could move, Hades pushed them both against the wall and put a finger to his lips. 

Two Amaurotines stopped a few steps from where they were standing and glanced around.

“Strange. Did you hear them, too?” one asked the other.

“I did, but where did they go?”

The first shrugged as the pair returned to the top of the bridge. 

Hythlodaeus breathed a sigh of relief once they were gone. Hades slumped against the wall between them.

“That one still tires me out,” he confessed quietly.

“Because you never ran it by anyone,” Hythlodaeus hissed. “There’s likely a more efficient way to do it.”

“Well next time, I’ll just let them see you without your _mask_.”

“How did they not see us?” Eudora asked, brow furrowed in confusion. “Was it something you did?”

Hades nodded and placed a hand on Hythlodaeus’ shoulder. The man disappeared from sight, but reappeared a moment later when the hand was removed. 

“A concept of mine that makes one invisible,” he explained. “It’s great for hiding things—like the day’s agenda from Halmarut.”

“And yet you wonder why they still treat you like a child,” Hythlodaeus muttered. 

“Oh, quiet you,” Hades replied, pushing off the wall. “The sun’s set and I’m exhausted after that trick. What do the two of you say to getting something to eat and calling it a night?”

They agreed as they replaced their masks and raised their hoods.

Hythlodaeus parted ways after they ate dinner, leaving Eudora to follow Hades home.


	8. The Draft

“When I accused you of hiding your soul, it’s because I was unaware that you simply lack one.”

Elidibus closed the file containing the draft for the trial and tossed it towards Hades.

“What are you _thinking_, Emet-Selch?” he demanded, leaning on his desk. “Do you have any idea what could happen should the candidate fail?!”

“She won’t fail,” he replied, sipping the coffee Elidibus had given him. 

He was sitting in the other man’s office in the Capitol. The white-robed man shot a glare across his desk at Hades.

“But what if she does? This isn’t even an issue of our respective seats! Do you understand how many would—” He stopped to suddenly change tactics. “You _do_ recall we are to protect the populace, correct? We cannot endanger their lives.”

Hades allowed himself a faint smirk at having wound up the usually unflappable man. 

“She. Will not. Fail,” he insisted, bobbing his head with each word for emphasis.

“You do not know that! Are there even any safeguards for this so-called plan?”

“You and I can—” Hades began, but changed upon seeing Elidibus ball up a fist in frustration. “_Lahabrea_ and I can be the safeguards. Two Convocation members should be more than enough to handle it.”

“Lahabrea would have to agree, first.”

“He already did.”

Elidibus’ jaw dropped. His body followed suit, landing in the chair behind his desk.

“How—?! You—!” His mouth worked silently for a moment before he leaned forward in his seat to hiss, “I haven’t approved it yet and you’ve already planned it out?”

Hades took a sip of coffee and glanced sideways at the paintings on the wall.

“I may not have mentioned the draft was still pending approval,” he murmured into the cup.

He flinched as his title echoed off the office walls. Elidibus was practically livid. For a moment, he wondered if he had gone too far this time.

“Out of all of us, _you_ are the one who should never lie!”

“It’s not a lie if I simply withhold information.”

The man suddenly went silent. He took a deep breath. When he finally spoke it was low and even.

“Get. Out.”

“Does this mean you’re done berating and are willing to listen?” Hades asked, setting the coffee down and prepared his explanation.

“Out, Emet-Selch.”

“You told me to get to know her yesterday and I did,” he said while the man rounded his desk. “She is capable of handling this.”

The file was thrust into his arms as Elidibus dragged him to his feet by the collar of his robes. Hades braced himself against the door before he could be thrown out. 

“She has a high capacity for aethereal manipulation. As high as mine or perhaps even enough to rival Lahabrea’s creative potential.”

Elidibus froze. The grip on the back of his robe loosened.

“That’s why you chose her, correct? She might need a little training, but the potential is there.”

The man released him and returned to his seat.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Hades straightened out his robes and sat down. Elidibus rested his elbows on the desk and laced his fingers together. The implicit command to continue hung in the air between them.

“You said yourself that one of our roles as members of the Convocation is to protect the people. What better way to prove herself than this?” he asked, sliding the file back to Elidibus. “A trial by fire, so to speak. Should she prove fully incapable, Lahabrea and myself can step in to prevent any casualties or damages.”

Elidibus slowly shook his head while Hades picked up his coffee.

“This is still risky,” he said, voice calm as usual. “Where would you even get one of those?”

“Like I said, I spoke with Lahabrea. The reason I originally approached him was to see if it was even possible.”

“And he agreed?”

“He said it was possible,” Hades confirmed with a faint smile. “That was when he agreed to help if things got out of hand. Do not forget that I will be present, thereby putting my life on the line as well. I would not suggest this if I thought the candidate would fail.”

The man dropped his head into his hands with a muffled groan. He again shook his head as he dragged his hands down his mask and face. Hades smirked at the atypical display of emotion and sipped his coffee.

“I don’t feel comfortable approving this. Why not come up with something else? The trial I made for you was nowhere near this difficult. Why do this to someone you claim to be a friend?”

“Because as my friend, I need her to prove herself to the others,” Hades replied simply. “As I said, if I make it at all easy, Mitron would likely accuse me of being soft on her. If you’re so uncomfortable, why not help us? If two of us is more than enough, three would make it a pittance.”

Elidibus slowly opened the file to skim through it for a third time. Once he had reached the end, he closed it and drummed his fingers on the cover.

“Emet-Selch, if this is how you treat your friends, then I would hate to be your enemy,” he sighed. “I agree on the condition that the three of us be present as a form of security. Send the candidate home when we adjourn for the day. You, Lahabrea, and myself will remain behind to discuss logistics.”

Hades thanked him and stood up.

“Everything will be just _fine_, Elidibus; you’ll see,” he said, walking to the door with coffee in hand. “I left the candidate wandering in one of the gardens on the upper floors. I’ll fetch her and take her to the meeting room.”

He slipped out the door without bothering to wait for a dismissal from Elidibus.


	9. The Book

The morning had passed slowly for Eudora. Hades met her on one of the top floors of the Capitol after his meeting with Elidibus. They walked through the garden there while he finished his coffee and then went down to where the Convocation met. 

The meeting itself was torturous. Eudora sat to one side for the majority of it while the Convocation debated the day’s topics, which seemed mostly banal. Hades eventually explained that due to her presence and her being a candidate instead of a member, they were unable to cover more confidential matters. 

When they reached the end of the agenda that afternoon, Hades took the floor at a nod from Lahabrea. He motioned for her to join him and introduced her as the candidate Elidibus had chosen. The others questioned her for the rest of the meeting, Hades and Elidibus being the only two who refrained. During the process, she quickly realized the more difficult questions were posed by Mitron.

Lahabrea eventually called a stop to the questions and adjourned them for the day. Eudora breathed a relieved sigh as the Convocation filed out of the room, leaving her alone with Hades. His mouth stretched into a proud smile as he led her outside and handed her the key to his office, telling her to go home since he had one final meeting with Elidibus and Lahabrea that would likely run late.

So it was that Eudora found herself sitting alone in Hades’ apartment. Hythlodaeus had already left for the day according to the note in the reception area where he apologized for missing her. If she had to be honest, she didn’t mind the chance at solitude following a day of interrogations.

The woman had removed her mask, shoes, and robe—neatly folding the latter and placing it in Hades’ guest room—leaving her in a pale blue blouse and loose white skirt. She made a meal for herself, which she had to admit lacked something compared to the previous night’s dinner, and curled up in a large armchair in the sitting room.

Eudora summoned a book to her hand as she ate. Its cover was worn and its spine well-creased; it easily opened up to one of her favorite poems. The collection of poetry had been a gift from Lukos, the scholar who had taught her most of what she knew—and the reason she had applied to the vacant Convocation seat in the first place. She made a mental note to send him a letter telling him everything that had happened since her arrival in Amaurot. 

Her plate vanished once she had finished her meal, but she remained comfortably curled in the armchair with her poetry book. 

A knock echoed throughout the apartment, drawing Eudora out of her book a few bells later. She set it aside and answered the door to find Hades waiting. The man thanked her as he entered his home, removing his mask and robe with a snap of his fingers to reveal his red dress shirt and black vest and slacks. She locked the door and followed him into the sitting room—where he was already splayed out on the sofa, one hand draped over his face.

“Was the meeting that bad?” she asked, returning to the armchair.

A groan was his only reply.

“Why not go to bed?”

“Too tired; not the first night I’ve slept here.” He angled his head so one pale yellow eye peeked out at her. “How was your evening?”

“Cozy,” she said and held up her book for emphasis. “I can move to the guest room if you want to sleep.”

“Stay; I’d like to talk to someone who doesn’t treat me as if I were still a child.”

“Only because I’m not going to scold you for sleeping on the sofa in your own home.”

His lips curved into a lazy smirk. 

“I appreciate that,” he confessed as he lowered his arm. “What are you reading?”

She explained. When asked if he could see it, she tossed it to him, carefully supporting it and cushioning the landing with wind-aspected aether. Hades leafed through it before nodding to himself and set the book down on the coffee table.

“Have you read her other work?”

“I wasn’t aware there was more.”

He lifted his shoulders off the sofa to get a better look at Eudora while he raised his eyebrows. 

“Now that’s a crime! Especially considering the state of this book,” he said. “They’ll be performing one of her plays the day after tomorrow. We’re going; Daeus, too.”

She agreed with a smile as he fully sat up and swung his legs over the front of the sofa, apparently feeling a little more awake. The man leaned his elbows on his knees before sighing.

“I forgot to warn you: your trial has been decided.”

The smile vanished from Eudora’s face as something heavy dropped into her stomach.

“When will it be?”

“I can’t tell you. I can, however, say that it will be dangerous.”

She lowered her gaze and fiddled with the hem of her blouse. After a few silent seconds, she quietly scolded herself and looked up to find Hades patiently watching her.

“I trust you,” she said. “I’m sure you don’t want me to fail, but I should have expected something that would pose a challenge.”

Something in his eyes softened. A faint smile came to his lips.

“I’ll be at your side every step of the way,” he promised. “While I can’t directly intervene, I _can_ offer minimal advice should I find you to be completely stuck.”

She thanked him. He leaned back against the sofa, crossing his legs.

“Tell me about the coast; tell me about your home.”

“Where to even begin?” she asked.

Eudora started by telling him about the land itself. She told him of how the land swept down to meet the water—which ebbed and flowed throughout the day. She remarked how in some of the larger areas, the tall grass swaying in the soft breeze seemed to imitate the waves out on the water. She noted that the sea grasses did much the same below the surface, swaying back and forth with the current.

She told Hades of the city in which she had lived—a marvel of aethereal engineering. It floated over the ocean, apparently due to a specific type of crystal which made up its foundation. The only way to access it was via a gondola lift you could take at the train station on the shore. 

She spoke of the animals that inhabited the coast, the small crabs that skittered over the sand and the furred creatures that tried to snatch them up. She laughed while telling him of the seabirds’ antics while they foraged for food and sometimes stole from unsuspecting people. She described the grace of the sea creatures as they danced through the water or walked along the ocean floor.

Hades listened intently to every word. He only spoke when she came to an end.

“I’d like to visit one day,” he said softly.

Eudora cocked an eyebrow.

“Really? Even after you spoke so disparagingly of life on the coast?”

“My apologies, did I misspeak and say ‘live’ instead of ‘visit’?” he asked with a smirk.

She chucked a pillow at him which he easily caught while laughing. He set it down and motioned for her to stand as he did so himself—a mischievous light playing in his eyes. 

Closing the distance between them without saying a word, Hades pressed his thumb against the center of her forehead. Eudora tried to back away, but his other arm snaked around her waist and held her close to him.

Before she could question the man, the memories she had just talked about flashed through her mind along with a few more. He released her a moment later and backed away with his eyes closed. One hand came up; its fingers snapped.

The apartment shifted as she felt aether swirl around them. Tall grass sprouted from the floor and the ceiling vanished, revealing the night sky. A salty breeze brushed past her, ruffling her skirt and his hair. She heard the steady rhythm of waves breaking on the beach. In the distance, floating over the ocean, she saw her old home dotted with lights that had yet to be extinguished for the night.

Hades finally opened his eyes. A smile came to his face as he observed his surroundings. He let out a bark of laughter when he saw Eudora staring at him with her mouth agape in amazement.

“Close your mouth, Dori, or are you looking to catch flies?” he teased.

“How did you get us here?” she asked, finally finding her tongue.

“We aren’t actually there,” he explained. “If you walk a certain distance, you’ll hit the outer wall of my apartment. This is simply a recreation based on your memories.”

“But it’s so _exact_.”

“Exact is what I do. I am the Architect.”

Eudora glanced around, unable to believe that what she was seeing wasn’t real. Hades watched her with a smirk and crossed arms. Her eyes narrowed as they landed on him.

“You’re showing off.”

“Now whatever gave you that idea?” he asked, tilting his head to glance at her sideways. He ignored her scoff and continued while holding his arms out to his sides. “This is the power of one who sits on the Convocation. This is what you need to match so that they will consider you worthy of the empty seat.”

She took another look at what he had done. Nerves made her stomach contort at the challenge. Eudora shook her head and pushed her apprehension to one side. She fixed Hades with a confident smile, hoping it didn’t look forced.

“Is that all? That should be a snap,” she said, snapping her fingers for emphasis.

The view flickered around them, reverting to his apartment before shifting back to the outdoors. His eyebrows raised, his eyes widened and then he smirked.

“A snap, indeed.”


	10. The Gazebo

Although the Convocation met the following morning, Eudora couldn’t attend the session. Hades, instead, suggested she spend the day with Hythlodaeus—who happened to arrive at that moment. Before the newcomer could remove his mask and robes, Hades called out to him, freezing his friend in place with a grin as he put on his own red mask.

“Perfect timing, Daeus! I was just telling Dori how she can take the day off since the Convocation needs to discuss confidential matters. Why don’t you join her and take a walk around the city? Maybe even show her Akadaemia Anyder since we didn’t have the chance to go the other day.”

“But I have—”

“Nothing pressing, I double-checked,” he interrupted, “but I’ll show you since I know how anxious you can get. Dori, excuse us a few minutes.”

The pair vanished into the office and closed the door. Eudora walked over to the window in the reception area to look outside while she waited. The door opened after a few minutes.

“You’re absolutely positive the addition to the train line can wait?” Hythlodaeus asked as they stepped out.

“A day will not make a difference,” Hades replied. “Go; _enjoy_ yourself for once. It isn’t healthy to be locked in this office with your work.”

Hades practically pushed Hythlodaeus out the door and closed it once Eudora walked through it. The man beside her released a slow sigh, tilting his masked face to glance at her.

“I think he wants me to take the day off,” he observed quietly. 

“You think?” she smirked.

He chuckled softly and walked down the short hallway to call the lift. 

“Is there anywhere you’d like to go?” Hythlodaeus asked while they waited.

Eudora considered the question, looking over her shoulder at the closed door to Hades’ rooms.

“I am a little curious about the Akadaemia,” she admitted.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea to go in the morning. They tend to have lectures now,” he explained. “After noon would probably be best. Have you eaten yet?”

Eudora shook her head. The man smiled at her.

“How about breakfast at the restaurant, then? They have these wonderful little pastries—and the best coffee in Amaurot.”

Her face lit up at the suggestion, drawing another chuckle out of him. 

Breakfast was as amazing as Eudora could have hoped. After they had eaten their fill and drunk enough coffee to keep even Hades awake for a week, the pair decided to take a walk in one of the larger parks until the lectures in Anyder ended. 

The park was filled with other people, thanks to the sunny weather. They chose one of the less crowded trails and followed it to a gazebo overlooking a pond. 

“I had no idea this was here,” said Hythlodaeus as he walked up to the structure and ran a hand along the wooden railing. “I don’t think even Hades knows.”

Eudora sat on a wooden bench in the gazebo.

“Is he expected to know every little detail about the city?”

“Actually, yes. It’s part of his job as Architect.”

She frowned at the man as he sat beside her.

“Why?”

He took a breath to answer, but released it in a sigh before returning her frown.

“I don’t quite know. Perhaps it’s in the case of an accident and part of the city needs to be rebuilt?”

“Does that happen often?”

“Not often, but it _has_ happened,” he replied. “The previous Emet-Selch had to rebuild a district due to a concept failing on a massive scale. Lives were, unfortunately, lost. I believe that was the reason for the last lottery.”

Now that she thought about it, Eudora did recall hearing about the accident a few decades ago. She frowned at the thought and idly traced the wood grain on the bench’s armrest. She sensed Hythlodaeus shift in his seat beside her, leaning forward to peek at her face.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you think of something like that.”

Eudora shook her head and moved her hand to her lap only to find a shoot had sprouted where she had been drawing her finger. A faint smile crossed her face as she lightly stroked the pale green leaves.

“Don’t apologize,” she whispered. “We may not die of old age like some of our creations, but we _can_ still die. If you think about it, the three of us wouldn’t have been born if other people hadn’t died. Maybe we should embrace it as part of living. Accidents could happen at any time; for all we know, something could happen right this minute and claim both of us and we’d never see Hades again.”

She sensed Hythlodaeus slump in his seat beside her. Despite not actually seeing it due to looking at the sprout, she could imagine his soul contorting into a ball. Eudora barely caught the words he muttered under his breath.

“Remember never to take her to a funeral—she’ll somehow find a way to make it more depressing.”

A chuckle escaped her.

“Do you get invited to a lot of funerals?”

“Possibly,” he responded with a faint smirk. “You probably would too if you could liven them up instead of making them want to join their dearly departed.”

Eudora lightly smacked him on the arm. His smirk warmed into a smile.

“I think Hades is starting to rub off on you,” she chided jokingly.

“It took long enough.” He leaned over to get a better look at the sprout now growing from the armrest. His jaw slacked. “Did you do that?”

She smiled at the surprise in his voice.

“I did; want to see it get bigger?”

“I must confess that I’m curious to see what happens.”

Eudora considered the sprout below her fingers before studying the gazebo around her. 

“It might destroy the structure. Would Hades mind?” she asked.

A strangely mischievous smirk curved Hythlodaeus’ lips. 

“Well, it’s highly likely he doesn’t know this gazebo exists and what he doesn’t know won’t make him mad at us later.”

She returned the gesture.

“He really _is_ rubbing off on you,” she chuckled. “Alright, go stand on the grass. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Hythlodaeus waved to her once he was clear of the gazebo. Eudora took a moment to concentrate on what she wanted to happen before channeling aether into the sprout with an outstretched hand.

More small shoots appeared along the length of the armrest, quickly gaining mass and height as they drank in the aether. Roots burst out of the legs of the bench and burrowed into the planks making up the gazebo floor. Eudora closed her eyes, focusing aether into the roots to make the effort easier. She sensed them break through to the soil below the gazebo. Sending one final burst of aether through, she hurried to join Hythlodaeus on the grass. 

The pair watched as the growing sprouts twisted together to form a solid trunk. It consumed the bench while roots broke up the gazebo floor. Branches formed and tore through the ceiling as the new tree stretched upwards and outwards overtaking the space once occupied by the structure. 

Having lost most of its support, the gazebo fell apart. Wooden beams crashed to the ground while others snapped in half and were swept up into the branches, quickly getting lost in the growing canopy of green leaves. One of the columns teetered until gravity took hold and pulled it towards them. Hythlodaeus grabbed Eudora, spinning her out of the way. He wrapped his arms around her protectively as the column landed where she had been standing. She instinctively buried her face in the front of his robes, faintly noting their floral scent. 

Once the area grew still, she lifted her head and loosened her hold on the man’s robes. Eudora felt his gaze sweep over her face as his lips pressed into a concerned frown.

“Are you alright?” he whispered.

She nodded.

“Good.”

Hythlodaeus released her and approached the fallen structure. She followed him and they helped each other pick their way over the gnarled roots of the large tree. When they reached the base of the trunk, he rested a hand on it and peered up at the branches. He lowered his gaze to smile at her.

“All this from an armrest and a bit of aether. I’m impressed. You should have no problem with the trial.”

His words made her gasp; he tensed at her reaction. She grabbed him by the arms before he could move.

“Do you know what it is?” she asked. “Did Hades tell you?”

His mouth cracked into a grimace as his head dipped, making her think he had glanced to one side.

“I… I do know,” he confessed, idly touching the edge of his white mask, “but I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

Eudora’s shoulders slumped at his response. He leaned over to catch her eye and smiled reassuringly.

“I can, however, insist that you’ll have no problem with it. Hades would not give you an impossible trial. He agonized over it until he created something that would fully challenge you, but also be surmountable.”

She remained silent and kept her gaze on the ground between them. A finger slowly came up to gently prod the corner of her mouth. Eudora smiled as she ducked her head and lightly pushed the hand away.

“There you go,” Hythlodaeus smirked. “It’s our day off, so no more thinking about work and no more sad faces.”

He sat down and leaned his back against the trunk of the tree before patting the ground beside him.

“Come, Dori,” he drawled. “Let’s enjoy this tree you destroyed a gazebo for.”

Eudora chuckled and sat down next to the man.


	11. The Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate reaching 1k hits <strike>and _nice_ kudos</strike>, here's the next chapter a day early. 
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for reading so far! You're awesome! :D

Eudora and Hythlodaeus sat below the tree she had created and watched light reflect off the pond. Every now and then, a brightly colored fish came close enough to the surface that its scales caught the light and glimmered, giving the effect of jewels glittering just below the surface.

While the woman had started off leaning against the tree trunk, she had slowly slipped to the side until she found herself resting against Hythlodaeus. After a while, the man also shifted so they were mutually supporting each other. 

They watched the water and enjoyed the tranquility until a question occurred to Eudora. She glanced at Hythlodaeus, lightly tapping his arm to get his attention. He softly hummed to show she had it.

“Can I ask a personal question?” she whispered.

“Only if I may choose not to respond,” came the hushed reply.

She considered the condition and nodded.

“That’s only fair.”

“Then ask away.”

Eudora sat up straight, prompting him to do the same or fall on top of her.

“Why aren’t you bonded, yet?”

“Wh-_what_?!” he shouted and turned to face her.

“I warned you it was personal!” she yelled defensively.

“Still, that isn’t something you just _ask_!” he countered, crossing his arms. “Why even bring that up?”

She lowered her gaze and fiddled with the hem of her sleeve.

“Because you’re sweet,” she explained softly. “And kind. And it’s a shame that you aren’t bonded to somebody.”

When Hythlodaeus remained silent, she dragged her hood down over her burning face.

“It’s alright; forget I asked,” she said into the cloth. “Like you said, you don’t have to respond.”

“No.”

The word sounded more like a sigh. She lifted her hood enough to peek out from under it. Hythlodaeus shook his head as he continued.

“The answer is simple enough. It’s because I haven’t found the right person. Binding your soul to someone else’s isn’t something you just… _dive_ into, Dori. I’ll have you know that eternity is a rather long time.”

She smiled at the reminder and carefully took his hand, stroking the back of it with her other one. His hand tensed between both of hers, but relaxed as it grew accustomed to her touch.

“Well, I hope you find them soon—you deserve it.”

He quietly thanked her as they fell back into silence with her still holding his hand. She idly mused over how soft his hands were for someone who had to physically do everything.

Another question occurred to Eudora. This time, she posed it without asking permission.

“What about Hades? Why isn’t _he_ bonded?”

The hand she was holding immediately tensed. She frowned down at it before glancing at Hythlodaeus who had turned his head away from her. For a moment, she considered checking his soul to see what was wrong, but he spoke before she could open her senses to it.

“He…” Hythlodaeus hesitated. 

“Hades hasn’t…” Another hesitation.

The man took a deep breath, shook his head, and faced her so he could start anew.

“The truth is that… Hades never saw the point of it,” he explained. “Barring any accidents—as you pointed out—we live forever. Why bind two souls together if they could just as easily spend eternity living side by side? Should one die due to an accident, then the survivor is left with—what is essentially—a gaping wound on their soul that will never heal.”

Eudora’s eyebrows furrowed together as she puzzled through Hythlodaeus’ words.

“So he’s afraid?” she asked. “But you said ‘saw’. Why the past tense?”

“Ah, did I?” he replied. “I… I must have misspoken. Forgive me.”

Hythlodaeus ducked his head so that his hood hid his face from Eudora. She silently studied him until something else came to her. Before she could open her mouth, Hythlodaeus’ hand slipped out of hers to rest in his lap. 

“You have yet another question, don’t you?” he asked, keeping his gaze on the pond.

“I do,” she confessed sheepishly.

“Go on; I’ll answer to the best of my abilities.”

Eudora hesitated, but only for a moment.

“Did Hades ever tell you why he hides his soul?”

A moment passed wherein Hythlodaeus stayed silent. 

“No, but I believe I may have an idea.” 

He sighed and crossed his arms, lifting his head to look up at branches that hadn’t existed that morning.

“I believe it’s because—as you rather eloquently put it—he’s afraid.”

“Of what?”

A sad smirk tugged at his lips.

“I don’t think even Hades knows,” he said softly. “If he does, then he doesn’t like talking about it. It’s possible he does it to protect himself, which would imply he fears being hurt, but I couldn’t say for sure.”

Eudora frowned at the thought as she leaned back against the tree. Hythlodaeus addressed her before she could settle too deeply into her thoughts.

“Have you ever managed to glimpse it?”

“Once or twice,” she admitted. “He’s good at keeping it bottled up. It’s a bit of a blue-ish violet streaked with dark red. I like it.”

Hythlodaeus tilted his head to look at her. She smiled at him.

“I like yours too; deep green flecked with pale gold. It’s interesting how similar the two of you look, but your souls are so different.”

His lips stayed inexpressive as she felt his gaze linger on her.

“May _I_ ask a question? I think it’s only fair.”

“Of course.”

“Are you bonded, Dori? Do you have someone waiting for you on the coast?”

Eudora looked out at the pond to avoid holding his gaze. 

It was a sore topic for the woman; her parents constantly asked her _why_ she wasn’t bonded and were always quick to suggest a “nice man” who was around her age, give or take a century. She had turned away each and every one, sometimes with Lukos’ help. The man was a scholar, but he had a rather intimidating build thanks to his preference for field work—and some men frighten _so_ easily. Despite the failed attempts, however, her parents had yet to give up. Then again, she had to have inherited her stubbornness from somewhere.

“I’m unbonded. Before you ask, it’s because I haven’t found the right person either.”

Silence.

Before she could turn to look, Hythlodaeus stood and offered his hand. Eudora glanced up to find a melancholic smile on his face.

“Let’s get going. By the time we get to Anyder, all the lectures should be done for the day.”

She accepted his hand as he led her away from the tree.

“How do you know this place so well? I don’t think I can even find my way out, now.”

Eudora followed Hythlodaeus down yet another of Akadaemia Anyder’s hallways. The man stopped and chuckled at her.

“You can thank Hades for that; he was always late to his classes. Lahabrea, in particular, had his timing down to the point where Hades would burst into the lecture hall just as his assessment was placed in front of his seat.”

While he spoke, Hythlodaeus studied the wall and traced his fingers over a specific part of it.

“What are you doing?” she asked, leaning to one side in an attempt to get a better look.

He smirked at her over his shoulder.

“You can also thank Hades for showing me the shortcuts he found,” he said and struck the wall with the heel of his palm.

A section swung open, revealing a dimly lit hallway with pipes running along the ceiling. Eudora’s jaw dropped while Hythlodaeus stepped inside. He offered her his hand to help her in after him. She furrowed her brows at him, despite the man being unable to see, and stayed in place.

“Where are you planning on taking me?”

“A part of the Akadaemia that not many people see,” he explained.

“But what if we get caught? I get the feeling that whatever this hallway leads to is off limits.”

Hythlodaeus withdrew his hand to tap it on his chin. The movement stopped after a moment as the corners of his mouth lifted up into a disarming smile.

“We say that we are conducting an inspection by order of Emet-Selch.”

“Won’t they try to verify that?” she countered, crossing her arms.

“Hades is stuck in a meeting all day. Since today’s discussion features confidential topics, interruptions will be forbidden. That should give us enough time to get away. Besides, I can do a quick inspection while we’re here, so it wouldn’t be a lie; if I remember correctly, the Akadaemia is a little behind on their routine inspections.”

He offered his hand again. She eyed it as a thought sprang forth in her head.

“You’re acting a little strangely,” she noted. “Are you alright?

His jaw tensed at the question and the tips of his outstretched fingers twitched. After a moment’s hesitation, his lips quirked into a smile.

“Everything will be fine, Dori. Trust me.”

The words resonated with her memories. Eudora stared at the offered hand; her stomach flipped thinking back on their conversations that morning. Her eyes drifted up to his white mask and sensed his eyes study her in return. He lightly tilted his head, indicating the hallway behind him, but remained silent. She took the hand and followed him through the secret door.


	12. The Cage

The dimly lit hallway went on for what felt like, to Eudora, too impossibly long. Every time they turned a corner, she hoped to see either a doorway or a dead end that would turn into one. Instead, she saw more and more of the never-ending hallway. 

She did, however, begin to notice the buildup of aether in the air the further they went. It thickened to the point where she caught glimpses of it hovering in the air like clouds. The woman stared at one as it flashed with pale lightning.

“You said that not many people see this part. Why is that exactly?” she asked, voice echoing within the empty passageway.

“I thought it would be obvious,” came the reply, “or do you have a guess you’re trying to confirm?”

“There’s an abundance of aether here.”

He nodded and continued on to explain.

“There’s a lab up ahead where concepts and creations are tested. The excessive aether is apparently to help facilitate their experiments. The downside is that it also makes it easier for said experiments to quickly get out of hand.”

Eudora hesitated before asking her next question.

“Can you see it, too?”

He flashed her a smile as he continued walking.

“Of course; anyone can when it’s this concentrated. Unfortunately, I still can’t use it.”

He turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks with a quiet gasp; Eudora stumbled into him. After politely waving away her apology, he ran his hands along the dead end. Like before, striking a specific spot caused a section of the wall to swing out. 

Light washed over her, nearly blinding her after being so accustomed to the dim hallway. Stepping to one side, he let her go first. Eudora hesitantly stepped out once she had blinked away the spots in her vision.

They had intersected another, much wider and taller, hallway. She glanced down to both ends before picking the one that led to a large set of doors. He followed, stopping beside her to peer up at them.

“What could be behind this?” he murmured, a finger pensively tapping his chin. 

“Only way to know is to open them,” she replied. “Do you think it’s unlocked?”

He turned his head to her with a chuckle and motioned to the doors.

“Only way to know is to check.”

“The question is: should we?” she countered.

“Don’t act as if you’re immune to curiosity,” he chided gently. “You want to know as badly as I do.”

“Well…” she started as an idea came to her. She smirked at him. “If our cover story is that we’re conducting an inspection on Emet-Selch’s orders, then we _obviously_ have to inspect everything. If anything, we can blame it on him.”

The smile that had been creeping along his face suddenly widened into a grin.

“I’m sure he won’t mind; he’d probably laugh and call it an excellent idea.”

The pair pushed against the doors. After a moment of resistance, they opened to reveal an immense room. From the entrance, they saw a dozen creatures locked in cells set into the walls and barred with aethereal barriers—and that was simply the level they were standing on.

Eudora approached the railing in front of her and craned her neck upwards to see the floors continue into darkness, each one lined with cells. The floor below was bare, save for an aetheric cage in the center holding a single, massive creature that seemed to be sleeping. 

There were no people in sight. When she noted as much, he leaned on the railing beside her before answering.

“Of course not, the lectures are over for the day and they are likely having lunch. Which means we have free rein until they return.” 

He pushed off the railing and climbed down a set of stairs leading to the floor below.

“I think we’ve seen enough,” she said, but he dismissed it with a lazy wave.

She rushed after the man. Eudora grabbed him by the arm as he reached the bottom step.

“What’s gotten into you?” she demanded. “We’re done here; let’s go.”

“But my inspection—” he started, but she quickly cut him off.

“Cover stories don’t work on the one who _helped you make them_!”

Movement caught her eye. Her grip on his arm lessened as she turned to find the creature had woken up. Eudora’s jaw dropped as it stood on four legs, the spikes running down the length of its hunched back brushed against the top of its enclosure, drawing sparks at the contact. 

“It’s gigantic,” she noted.

“I’d say it’s behemoth,” he murmured.

The horns of the purple-furred creature struck the aethereal bars of its cage, sending sparks flying and making the creature roar. They covered their ears at the deafening sound. It backed away from the barrier in front of it, only for it to roar again when its tail touched the other end of the cage.

_Its enclosure is too small,_ she realized. 

A console to the left of the creature’s enclosure buzzed angrily. Her friend swore under his breath and ran to it, shielding his face from the shower of sparks it released as he approached. The creature snarled while he pressed a few buttons. It rammed its horns into the corner closest to him. He struck the console with his fist as Eudora joined him.

“We can’t stay here,” she hissed, tugging on his arm.

“We can’t _leave_,” he retorted and pointed to a section of the screen. “The aethereal field can’t contain it.”

Eudora leaned in to read the message confirming his words. Sparks rained on them as the creature hit the barrier again. This time, it flickered out of sight before returning. She swallowed her fear before focusing on the console.

“Can it be fixed?”

“I don’t know; the console only responds to aether,” he explained. “I can’t do anything to it.”

She pushed him to one side and channeled enough of her aether into the console to gain access. Messages popped up and were summarily ignored as she searched for commands that would immediately help them.

The creature roared yet again before slashing at the barrier with its claws. The console let out two warning beeps before going dark. The aether forming the cage around the creature dissipated.

Eudora froze. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as she sensed the creature’s gaze land on her. She very slowly looked up and confirmed it. 

Something small and white struck the side of the creature’s head. It immediately twisted to snarl in the man’s direction as the white mask clattered on the ground. 

“Get that cage working again! I’ll distract our friend here!” he shouted.

The creature charged at the man, who took off running. 

Eudora focused her attention back on the console. She placed both hands on the sides and channeled her aether directly into it. The console whirred back to life with a welcoming beep. The warning message immediately returned, helpfully informing her of the missing barrier. This time, the console offered to navigate her through the sequence to reassemble the enclosure. 

Recalling her earlier observation, she looked for a way to enlarge the creature’s cage, but found nothing.

_That won’t work,_ she thought. _If we just throw it back in the same small space, it’ll simply break out again._

A pained cry rang out followed by a heavy thud. Her head shot up to find the creature had whipped the man with its tail, throwing him against the far wall. He struggled to get back on his feet, but slipped down to one knee with a stifled yell.

An idea came to her. Eudora quickly input the sequence to create the same enclosure for the creature. The woman braced herself against the console and directed the ambient aether directly into the barrier. It began to grow. 

While it stretched to block off half of the room, she focused on the creature stalking towards her limping friend. She ran, planting herself between them. The creature froze when it noticed her. It crouched low and readied itself to pounce. It leapt.

A burst of wind-aspected aether slammed into its side, sending it through the opening she had briefly created in the barrier. The creature righted itself, carving grooves in the metal as it slid across the floor. It soon realized it was once again trapped in the aethereal cage and roared its displeasure. The creature settled down, however, when it circled in annoyance without hitting the walls of its enclosure. It lay down, but kept its eyes trained on them.

Eudora relaxed before glancing around the room in search of her friend. She found him leaning against the console, pressing a hand to his side. She rushed over to discover his hand covered in blood.

“Did you know it has spikes on its tail?” he asked with a breathy laugh.

“Quiet you,” she spat, lifting his hand to see the damage. “We need to get you to a doctor.”

His legs gave out and he slid to the ground. She moved to his uninjured side to help him back to his feet.

Footsteps echoed throughout the room.

“Uh oh,” he murmured before pushing away from her to lean on the console. “My mask.”

Eudora looked at where he was pointing and saw the mask where it had landed after striking the creature. She fetched it, placing it in his hand and supporting him while he put it on—just as three men descended the stairs. 

Lahabrea was in the lead. He glanced around the room as they approached, a faint smirk on his face. He stopped in front of them with Mitron and Elidibus moving to stand at either side.

“I see you stayed awake during a few of my lectures,” Lahabrea said.

The injured man managed to wheeze out a chuckle in response.

“Can you scold him later?” Eudora interjected. “He needs a doctor.”

“Allow me.”

Mitron stepped forward and pressed his hand against the wound. The man cried out in pain, digging his fingers into Eudora’s shoulder as she held him up. Upon removing his hand, Mitron checked through the ripped cloth that the wound had indeed been healed. 

Satisfied that his work was done, he addressed Eudora.

“A curious solution,” he noted. “When presented with an escaped creation, your solution is simply to return it to its cage rather than dissipate it. Explain yourself, child.”

“That’s hardly fair. She—”

“_Silence_, boy,” Mitron hissed.

She swallowed hard, shifting her feet to accommodate for her friend’s added weight as he continued to lean heavily on her and arranged her thoughts.

“The answer is simple: what happened wasn’t its fault, so why destroy it? The beast was enraged due to its small enclosure; touching the sides seemed to put it in pain and deplete the energy creating the bars. Therefore, the cage was bound to fail eventually. In making its enclosure larger, the creature has more space to move and will be less likely to attempt escape. Whatever experiments or studies were happening may continue and will likely yield more information due to the beast being more at ease.”

“But it injured your friend.”

“Whose only reason for being in that position was to help me,” she replied. “He knew the risk and trusted me to come up with a solution before the creature escaped this room.”

A gentle smile played on Mitron’s lips. He nodded and returned to Lahabrea’s side.

“Speaking of which,” Elidibus said, walking up to them and addressing the other man. “I hope you are aware that this is considered a high offense. You could serve time for what you have done.”

She frowned in confusion at the man's words and wondered why he hadn't included her in the accusation.

A soft chuckle was her friend’s reply as his right hand lifted off her shoulder, shifting his weight onto his own feet. He snapped his fingers. Eudora’s head snapped over to stare at him, jaw agape. Aether swirled around them as the room dissolved into a barren hall. 

Another snap changed the white mask on his face into the red one worn by Emet-Selch.

“I’m sorry for tricking you,” Hades whispered to her.

Before she could respond, he had turned to face Elidibus.

“I hope you are aware that I don’t care. This afternoon was the only time I could safely conduct the trial,” he paused and removed his mask so as to clearly glare at the man. “Did you _really_ believe I would place innocent people in danger? Come now, Elidibus, I’m a member of the Convocation! It’s my job to _protect_ them.”

Lahabrea laughed. 

“It was a rather brilliant move,” he admitted. “Using the training hall during the afternoon to minimize exposure to innocents. You even employed illusions powerful enough to physically affect reality,” he nodded at the grooves in the floor. “Then again, the latter should not surprise me; you did always score highly when it came to creating illusions. But such an extensive illusion… Once you’re fully recovered, we’ll need to compare notes, Emet-Selch.”

He turned and shrugged nonchalantly at the other two men.

“I propose we let the offense slide—just this one time. The trial has been conducted, the candidate proved herself worthy, and no harm has come of it.”

“What about his friend?” Elidibus asked. “The one he sent to us wearing his mask. Impersonating a member of the Convocation is also an offense.”

“Don’t you dare try to blame Daeus!” Hades snapped. “He only did it because I asked him to.”

“Thereby jeopardizing your own seat,” Elidibus continued coldly. “You send an imposter on the day we are scheduled to discuss confidential matters. Perhaps you _should_ step down.”

“A rather poor imposter who did not hear a word due to Igeyorhm picking him out the second she walked in by wondering why Emet-Selch suddenly had a soul,” Mitron added. “Let the incident go, Elidibus. We do not need to vacate a seat after so having recently found a fitting candidate for our last vacancy.”

Lahabrea’s mouth worked silently while Hades nearly dropped his mask in shock. Something fluttered in Eudora’s chest as she studied the man.

“You don’t mean to say,” Elidibus prompted hestitantly.

Mitron nodded and stiffly bowed to Eudora.

“It will take some time to arrange the ceremony, but when that day arrives I will gladly place the mask of your new office upon your face, Shachar, Light of Hope.”


	13. The Switch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[See, what had happened was...]_

“Perfect timing, Daeus! I was just telling Dori how she can take the day off since the Convocation needs to discuss confidential matters. Why don’t you join her and take a walk around the city? Maybe even show her Akadaemia Anyder since we didn’t have the chance to go the other day.”

“But I have—”

“Nothing pressing, I double-checked,” he interrupted, “but I’ll show you since I know how anxious you can get. Dori, excuse us a few minutes.”

Hades grabbed Hythlodaeus by the wrist and pulled him into their office, closing the door behind them. 

“I need to ask you for a favor,” he whispered. 

“Why am I not going to like the sound of this?” Hythlodaeus asked with a faint scowl.

“Because you never do,” Hades retorted, “but this time I absolutely need your help. Switch places with me so you can go to the Capitol and I can take Dori to the Akadaemia.”

“Wha—?!”

Hades clamped a hand over his friend’s mouth and hushed him.

“Not so loud; Dori might hear.”

He released Hythlodaeus and put a finger to his own mouth as a reminder. From the set of his friend’s lips, Hades could tell he was being glared at.

“That’s illegal, Hades!” he hissed. “This isn’t like when we were children. I could be stripped of my mask and banished if I’m found impersonating you! Maybe even executed!”

“They won’t know the difference. Just slouch in your chair, take a nap, and groan every now and then to let them know you’re breathing.”

“But you said they’re covering confidential topics today.”

“Topics you are already faintly familiar with due to being highly observative and my assistant,” Hades countered. “Please, Daeus, this is the only day this week that I can do this.”

Hythlodaeus frowned.

“Do what?”

“Dori’s trial. I need to conduct it in a large room so my illusion will hold up. And it has to be an illusion since it’s the safer alternative to actually _creating_ another one of those things.”

His friend idly tapped a finger to his chin as he thought. After a second, he quietly gasped.

“Ah, of course; the training hall. It should be closed to everyone this afternoon. I thought Elidibus and Lahabrea were going to help you. Won’t they be at the meeting?”

“Correct on all counts. I need to do this on my own, Daeus. Without the help of any other Convocation member.”

The frown returned to Hythlodaeus’ face.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ve lied to him and Lahabrea? And you’ll be lying to Dori if you pretend to be me.”

Hades ignored the painful jolt of realization that shot through him.

_Three lies in one day,_ he sighed. _I’m going to lose my seat over this._

Hythlodaeus echoed the sound, rubbing the edge of his mask. He paused before frowning at Hades.

“You are giving me a _real_ day off at the end of all this, do you understand?”

“_Perfectly._”

Hades removed his mask and tapped it against the one on Hythlodaeus’ face, switching their appearances. He placed the—now white—mask back on his face and straightened his friend’s robes as the intricate embroidery of the Convocation appeared on it while fading from his own.

“You know, it doesn’t look half-bad on you.”

Hythlodaeus flashed him a perfect imitation of his mischievous smirk. The uncanny sight managed to slightly unnerve Hades.

“Well of _course_,” the man said, adopting Hades’ drawl. “We are nearly twins, after all. Remember, stand up straight and smile—I don’t smirk. Stay calm; I’m nowhere near as… expressive as you.”

“Oh, that is going to be difficult,” Hades reflected. “Let’s suppose I’ve finally rubbed off on you after a lifetime?”

Hythlodaeus crossed his arms. Hades felt the judgment from behind his own mask.

“Very well, I’ll do my best,” he sighed. “Ready?”

The other man nodded. He turned on his heel and opened the office door.

“You’re absolutely positive the addition to the train line can wait?” Hades asked as they stepped out.

“A day will not make a difference,” Hythlodaeus replied. “Go; _enjoy_ yourself for once. It isn’t healthy to be locked in this office with your work.”

He pushed Hades out the door and closed it once Eudora stepped through it. Hades sighed and glanced at the woman beside him. 

“I think he wants me to take the day off,” he observed quietly.

“You think?” she smirked.

The pair discussed their plans as they walked down the hallway.

Hythlodaeus waited a few minutes before leaving the office, adjusting the red mask as he waited for the lift.

_How did he ever get used to the pressure on his cheeks?_ he wondered, running a finger along the part that reached down to the edge of his jaw.

He walked to the Capitol, thankful that he knew where to go once inside due to having accompanied Hades on multiple occasions. A woman called out to him as he waited for the lift; he almost forgot to respond. When he turned, he recognized her as Deudalaphon.

“Emet-Selch! Good morning. I’m surprised to see you here on time. Do you have another meeting with Elidibus?”

“Good morning, Deudalaphon,” Hythlodaeus replied as they entered the lift. “I do not. I simply woke up early and decided to come in.”

“It’s all that coffee you drink,” she scolded. “You’d sleep better if you didn’t have so many cups of it in the afternoon.”

“Would you rather I take more naps while we’re in session?” he smirked.

“I’d rather you slept like the rest of us,” she retorted as the lift stopped. They stepped out, but the scolding continued. “You’re part of a team now, Emet-Selch, and you need to act like it. It wouldn’t do for the rest of us to take on more work simply because you make yourself unable to carry your own weight.”

Hythlodaeus bit his tongue which helped his sneer.

“Well, I shall promptly take it into consideration and ignore it. I’ll see you in a little bit, Deudalaphon. I do need to get some coffee, after all.”

He turned on his heel and left the woman, sensing her irritation with every step he took. 

The man continued, doing his best to look confident as he recalled the small room that contained the coffeemaker used by the Convocation members, who had long ago realized the beverage tasted best when made physically. Either way, it wasn’t his favorite drink—especially the way Hades drank it—but if he wanted to be convincing, then he had no choice.

When he turned into the room, he froze upon finding Elidibus already in there with his own cup of coffee. The white-robed man glanced at him, silently grabbed a cup, and filled it before holding it out to him. Hythlodaeus hummed in thanks as he accepted the drink and sipped, idly wondering how little he could get away with drinking.

“I hope the candidate was well last night,” Elidibus said. “The others were rather honest with their questions yesterday.”

“She hasn’t fled back to the coast, if that’s your question,” he answered. “I believe she’s taking in more of the sights today, actually.”

“Good; it would be a shame for her to be scared off before her trial. Speaking of which, Lahabrea is going to request the use of the training hall for it. That should provide enough space for whatever illusion you need to create.”

“Wonderful. That _should_ serve nicely.”

The white-robed man stepped closer and lowered his voice.

“I do still have to question the logic behind picking one of _those_ beasts. Illusion or not, should it escape the hall, it is likely to cause extensive damage to the Akadaemia.”

“Damage that I could easily fix.”

“And should any casualties occur?”

Hythlodaeus’ innards twisted at the thought and he attempted to hide his scowl behind a sip of coffee.

_What does Hades have planned for this trial? What could he have possibly thought up that might end up killing people?_

He sensed the moment Elidibus’ eyes narrowed at the extended silence. Hythlodaeus quickly settled on a Hades-esque answer.

“Come now, Elidibus,” he smirked, “surely you have more faith in the candidate than that. You _did_ pick her, did you not? Everything will be fine.”

“I suppose.”

Something in the man’s tone seemed uncertain. He faintly wondered if he could silence the white-robed man if the situation called for it. Hythlodaeus glanced down at the coffee in his hand.

_Hot coffee thrown at white robes,_ he mused. _It would burn as well as stain. At least the surprise should buy me time to run._

A bell rang throughout the floor, summoning the Convocation to the chamber. Hythlodaeus sighed in relief as he silently followed Elidibus and hoped he could do as Hades had suggested and pretend to sleep through the meeting.

They sat in their assigned seats, facing the inner part of the circle and the open space it created. Lahabrea stepped into the center and turned to take a quick count; the motion brought back memories of Hythlodaeus’ time in the Akadaemia.

His old professor stopped when his gaze landed on an unexpectedly empty chair. He immediately frowned.

“Has anyone seen Igeyorhm?” he asked. 

Murmurs drifted around Hythlodaeus, to which he only contributed a lazy shrug. Lahabrea resigned to wait a few minutes for the woman. Hythlodaeus swallowed an amused hum at the thought.

_Maybe there is some merit in what Hades has said,_ he reflected as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. _Lahabrea would normally never hold off on beginning his discourse. I’ll have to let Hades know about his little rumor._

The other members conversed while they waited. Hoping to avoid as much interaction as possible, Hythlodaeus slid further down his chair, tucked his chin into his chest, and pretended to fall asleep.

The rattle of the chamber door being thrown open startled Hythlodaeus, making him wonder if he actually _had_ dozed off. Igeyorhm rushed to her seat and set a small stack of papers beside it.

“Apologies for my tardiness,” she said, addressing the room. “The train had been delayed and—”

She stopped when her gaze passed over Hythlodaeus. A shiver ran down his spine as she slowly crossed the circle towards him. He did his best to maintain a neutral expression, despite knowing he had been discovered.

“What is it, Igeyorhm?” Lahabrea asked.

The woman paused and glanced at the man, pointing a finger at Hythlodaeus.

“Why is Emet-Selch’s soul suddenly visible? And why is the base color green? I thought we had it registered as violet.”

Eleven pairs of eyes turned to study him as whispers filled the chamber.

_“Who is he?”_

_“Doesn’t he rather **look** like Emet-Selch?”_

_“He certainly acts like him.”_

Instincts yelled for him to run, but he quickly stifled the thought. Halmarut approached and stopped in front of him, arms crossed.

“Who are you? What have you done with the real Emet-Selch?”

Hythlodaeus managed to get the answers through the knot in his throat.

“My name is Hythlodaeus. Emet-Selch asked me to take his place today. He is currently with the candidate, but I cannot tell you where.”

_“He even sounds like him!”_

_“Is this one of his illusions?”_

“Why can you not tell us?” Halmarut continued.

“Because I do not know.”

“Why did he ask to switch places?”

Hythlodaeus hesitantly glanced at Elidibus and Lahabrea. His hand idly came up to rub the edge of his borrowed mask.

“H-he plans to conduct the candidate’s trial today.”

The chamber erupted into shouts.

“What?!”

“Alone?”

“He’s lying!”

“No. He’s telling the truth,” Halmarut noted.

“That impulsive little—”

“Enough,” Lahabrea said, cutting off Mitron. He motioned for Halmarut to sit before taking his place in front of Hythlodaeus. “I recognize you, now. Excellent student despite your aethereal limitations. You were his friend, I believe; it explains why he trusted you with this ‘task’. Do you understand the position he’s put you in?”

Hythlodaeus nodded. Lahabrea hummed quietly before turning to address the chamber.

“I propose that we adjourn for the day, seeing as how we are missing a member and cannot discuss certain points of the agenda without him. We may hold an emergency meeting tomorrow to make up for today’s loss. Use the extra day to bolster your arguments.”

His words were met with murmurs of approval. Lahabrea officially released them. He held up a hand in front of Hythlodaeus while the others filed out—except for Elidibus and Mitron, who joined Lahabrea.

“What do you know?” Elidibus demanded coldly.

Hythlodaeus offered a weak half-smile to the man.

“I’m afraid you need to be more specific.”

Mitron scoffed.

“He’s as infuriating as the real thing! What do you know about his _plan_?”

“Ah, well… I can only explain what little he told me. He wishes to take Dori to the training hall in the Akadaemia and conduct the trial there in the afternoon. That way, he will be free to conjure as powerful an illusion as needed without fear of casualties.”

He sensed confusion from Elidibus and Mitron. Lahabrea, however, burst into laughter.

“Of course the Architect would know the schedule!” the man declared between chuckles. “The Akadaemia closes the training hall once a week and floods it with concentrated aether to replenish what gets used during sessions. With that much ambient aether, he should have more than enough to create a self-sustaining illusion.”

“We need to stop him,” Elidibus said.

“Why? I say let him fail,” Mitron countered. “He needs to learn his lesson.”

“You don’t know his plan,” Lahabrea said in an attempt to reason with the man. “Nor do you know the strength of his illusions. If we do not stop him, we need to be present at the very least so as to contain the creature if it escapes the hall. Thank you for your cooperation, Hythlodaeus. You may go home.”

He stood as the three men turned their backs on him to leave.

“Let me go with you,” he said, stopping them. “I know I won’t be of any help, but I’d like to know my friends are safe.”

Elidibus half-turned to him and shook his head.

“It’s too dangerous, Hythlodaeus. Go home. We will send word once the trial is over.”

They vanished through the door, leaving him alone in the empty chamber. Hythlodaeus sighed in frustration. He frowned down at his hands. 

For the first time in his life, he _hated_ his limitation.


	14. The Fourteenth

The day of the ceremony finally arrived. It took place on a stage in front of the Capitol. Thousands of Amaurotines flooded the area in front of the building or watched from nearby windows. The ceremony was projected onto the side of buildings in the other districts, to accommodate those unable to reach the Capitol. Similar arrangements were made for those living in the other cities. 

Eudora paced in the lobby of the Capitol where she waited alongside the rest of the Convocation. When the time came, she followed the others onto the stage. Lahabrea gave a lengthy speech explaining the events that led up to the vacancy and formally thanked Elidibus for undertaking the search for the candidate. 

Eventually, it was Hades’ turn to speak. As her sponsor, it was his duty to tell the people about her past and what she had done to earn her place on the Convocation. Eudora fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve as her friend praised her work in maintaining the balance of the coastal ecosystem and improving the lives of those who lived there with her work. 

She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, as if someone was studying her soul. Before she could look around, she sensed the faintest of touches on her soul that drew her attention to the wings of the stage. There she saw Hythlodaeus, who flashed her a smile and a thumbs up. The faint touch returned to her soul, embracing it as if in a warm hug. Eudora allowed her soul to glimmer with gratitude at his reassurance. The feeling vanished as he left the wing.

Having finished explaining the public details of her trial, Hades then invited Mitron to place the mask of Shachar on Eudora’s face—an act typically done by the sponsor, but this time deferred to Mitron due to his close friendship with the previous Shachar.

She and Mitron stood with the Convocation on one side and the entirety of Amaurot on the other. He very gently rested one hand on her white mask and passed the hand over her face. Her mask transformed into that of Shachar; a red mask that covered her entire face, the mesh on the eyeholes painted to resembled closed eyes which gave the mask an overall serene look.

Once her mask had changed, Mitron rested his hands on her shoulders and swept them down her arms. He held her hands as gold embroidery appeared on her black robes, denoting her new position. He smiled at her and leaned close to whisper into her ear.

“My old friend would be proud to see someone like you take his seat. I’ll be keeping a close eye on your future endeavors.”

“Thank you, Mitron,” she whispered.

He nodded and returned to his seat, revealing Hades patiently waiting for her with a proud smile on his face. He lightly tilted his head to indicate the center of the stage where she would address the people for the first time. She stood beside him and looked out at the cheering crowd.

Apparently sensing her hesitation, he lightly tapped her hand to ensure her attention and leaned over to her.

“Think of yourself as an actor on the stage,” he whispered. “That’s what I do for these things.”

She stepped forward, surprised when the crowd fell silent. Swallowing her anxiety, she spoke to them. It was short, especially compared to Lahabrea’s speech. She began by thanking Elidibus and Emet-Selch for the opportunity. She thanked her friends, both old and not-so-new, for their continued support. She finished simply by pledging to serve the people of the cities. 

It felt like the entire city erupted with cheers and applause as she finished. Eudora found herself thankful for her new mask hiding the entirety of her stunned expression. 

With the ceremony over, the Convocation adjourned to the Capitol where they had a private celebration while the more public one happened in the streets outside. The members crowded around her, each one seeking her attention and conversation. She found herself struggling to juggle all of them.

“_Enough_, all of you!”

The small cloud of people around Eudora split to allow Hades passage. He continued past Eudora, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along as he made for the lobby doors.

“The lot of you act as if you won’t see her tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder. “Let her enjoy one final night before you overwhelm her with tedium.” 

The doors obediently swung open at one of his snaps. On the other side, they found Hythlodaeus waiting for them. The man easily fell into step alongside Hades as they walked into the street filled with celebrants.

“Leaving the party already?” he asked. “Did you not like their wine?”

“Don’t start, Daeus,” Hades grumbled. “They were crowding her; already throwing her into their politics.”

“Did you think to ask her if she minded before swooping in and ‘rescuing’ her?”

Hades faltered and glanced over at Eudora. Hythlodaeus whispered into the man’s ear, causing him to release his hold on her wrist. She watched as Hythlodaeus pat Hades on the shoulder.

“I’ll stop by the restaurant and pick up some food for us. I expect them to be busy, so it should take longer than usual. Why don’t the two of you go home and have a much-needed talk?” he suggested. “I’ll knock before entering.”

He pat Hades’ shoulder one more time and flashed her a gentle smile before walking away. Hades cleared his throat and glanced to the side as he addressed her.

“Did you want to stay in the Capitol?”

“To be honest, it was a little overwhelming. Let’s do what Daeus suggested and head back home.”

They walked in silence, mutely agreeing to keep to the emptier streets to avoid being pulled into any festivities. He unlocked the door when they reached his apartment and followed her inside. She removed her new mask once he had closed the door while his robes and mask vanished with a snap, leaving him in his typical dress shirt and vest attire.

Eudora studied him. He actively avoided locking eyes with her as he stood by the entrance with his arms crossed. 

“We haven’t really had a chance to speak since the day of the trial,” she noted. 

He softly hummed in confirmation.

She sighed at his silence and turned around to remove her robes, revealing the red dress she had chosen to wear that day. She faintly felt his gaze linger on her before moving away. 

“Do you have anything to say?” she asked as she folded her robes and set them on a table in the reception area. 

Silence. She glanced back to find him stubbornly watching the door to his living area.

“Nothing?” she pressed. “Strange, since you’re always running your mouth with some smart remark or other.”

“There’s nothing to say,” he said softly.

Her anger flared at the response.

“Well how’s this for a _prompt_?” she spat. “Why did you lie to me the day of the trial?”

Hades clenched his jaw and dug his fingers into his upper arms, but remained silent.

“Still nothing? Is the question too hard? Should I somehow make it _easier_?”

He sighed heavily and finally locked eyes with her.

“I didn’t lie. I might withhold information or stretch the truth, but I wouldn’t lie to you, Dori.”

“Yes you did!”

“Only about my identity,” he replied, still in a quiet tone. “Everything else was the truth.”

Eudora faltered as her anger fled her. Hades took a deep breath before continuing.

“Everything I said about your skills and capabilities, about bonding, and even about my own soul—it was all true. Even if we haven’t seen each other in centuries, I still consider you an old friend and I don’t lie to my friends.”

Hades let his arms fall to his sides.

“I do apologize again for tricking you and making you believe I was Daeus. I had to do it to prove myself to the others. Granted, I probably shouldn’t have used your trial, but what’s done is done.”

She stared for a moment before realizing he had finished.

“So… everything?” she asked hesitantly. “Even the part about being afraid? That was all true?”

He nodded.

“I think Daeus is the only other person to have seen me be so sincere,” he confessed.

Eudora thought back to their walk through the park and their conversation under the tree. She felt her soul flicker at the memory and smiled at him.

“Well, then,” she said, clapping her hands together before extending one towards him. “I suppose I can forgive you, seeing as how we’re old friends and all. But you have to promise never to switch places with Daeus again. Or if you _do_, then you tell me so I’m aware. I'm partial to a good trick, myself.”

He raised his eyebrows, but otherwise stared blankly at the proffered hand.

“You’re supposed to shake, Hades,” she reminded him.

Hesitantly, he accepted the hand and shook. Eudora smiled at Hades as he seemed to relax. For the briefest of moments, she caught a flicker of something violet and red in his chest as he returned her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and especially all the lovely comments! Each and every one brightened my day! <3
> 
> <strike>I've definitely gotten too attached to these guys, so</strike> I'm not done writing yet! Shorter, one chapter stories will be coming up (ableit at a much slower pace).
> 
> Thanks again for sticking with me!


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